Throwback to that time I was so sick for a week in Italy that I couldn't leave the hotel room. Lucky this was the view, really. (Let's be honest - I wouldn't have left anyway. The illness was just a convenient excuse.) ... Also I have a new book out! If you're looking for a mystery to curl up with this weekend, hit the link in my bio to get the latest Charlie Davies novella. (What? Did you expect me *not* to plug it in this post? You should have known better. 😂)
I've spent time thinking. Lots of it. Some would say too much. But the truth of the matter is I'm still trying to figure things out. Still trying to understand. It's not about handing over power or even holding on. It's about that part of my mind that needs rationality in a situation that has none. I've stumbled down the five stages of grief, though anger has only made its presence known in recent weeks. Acceptance is still a ways off I think, but again, not because of holding on. It's all about that lack of understanding my brain must work though before I reach it.
But I do think I am thought about more than I originally assumed. Even if only subconsciously, like that tickle in the back of the mind that registers a piece of information, important but not quite caught. I'm the dream that slips through memory. Or the breath that wakes you up unexpectedly in the middle of the night and you don't know where it came from. The quiet that catches you off guard in the middle of the day.
Material possessions with my handprints all over them. Actions taken with my input whispered in their memory. I imagined I'd be forgotten. That I'd never been important to linger. But I realised without requiring active cognition, I am the ghost you created. And long after I've forgotten, moved on and found peace, I will always remain with you, even if subliminally. And whether happiness finds you again, stilted or possibly true, you will always carry that piece of me you can't shake, knowing in all its broken beauty it was you who broke it. And you will think of me more than I think of you.
#lynnettebrisia #amwriting #thoughts #ghosts #thinkofme #horror #horrornovel #horrorwriter #psychologicalscare #fear #scarybooks #bookplotting #stalk
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The ideal cast for the film version of my novel
CORRIE NEXT DOOR
as Malcolm X.
Malcolm makes a brief but significant appearance in the story. Much like it was with Dr. King, I struggled attributing dialogue to Malcolm and I antagonized over the scenes, but I believe I did him justice. Erik is a dynamic actor. He was simply genius on @hbo_boardwalk_empire.
I would love for him to play Malcolm X! (In 1966 Martin Luther King Jr. began his crusade against American poverty and became adamantly vocal against the country's occupation in South Vietnam. More than ever Martin understood his days were numbered.
He asked Royal Matthews to protect his family in the midst of the turbulent days not knowing that Royal was compromised by his adoration for his wife, Coretta King. Royal's handlers decided to use this against him and the moment that changed American history may very well be his fault ... 50 years Royal Matthews finds himself in a race against time to tell the truth about the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. and who was really behind it ......) AVAILABLE NOW AT AMAZON.COM
Kindle E-BOOK format
The fiction thriller from the mind of writer J.BROUX
CORRIE NEXT DOOR
ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY
#support #black #authors
Não adianta se entregar por inteiro pra alguém que só te quer até a metade, é perca de tempo. O amor é pra deixar sem fôlego, é gemido alto, é risada escandalosa. Essa história de "te amo até" não funciona comigo. Quero alguém que faça eu me sentir maravilhosa sem dizer uma palavra, que me dê um abraço de urso e me traga duas vezes mais batata frita que consigo comer. Parece bobo mas já ouviu aquele ditado "Quem tá na chuva é pra se molhar?", ele veio daí. Se for pra sair na chuva que seja pra dançar nela, que seja pra sair encharcada.
Se apaixone por quem te arranca sorrisos, por quem ri alto da sua risada escandalosa e que te dê orgasmos. Fuja dessa gente que ama pela metade, que gosta mais ou menos e que te deixa no quase.
O amor é pra gente se jogar, é pra se entregar por inteira pra quem está inteiro por você.
Pare com essa mania de querer apagar incêndio com conta gotas, de querer tapar o sol com a peneira e de tentar acabar com a fome usando apenas migalhas.
Só se entregue pra quem é oceano, pra quem não tem medo de se jogar por que a verdade é que se você continuar mergulhando em amores rasos, cedo ou tarde, vai se machucar.