More Cocksockett, it seems. And I'm working on a bit more for Lumpy Lisa as well. I'll probably publish another piece of Calvin's story in a few days, I have a bit of work to do to make another chapter, and frankly the story has escaped what it was to begin with, which was a bunch of flash stories or scenes, really because, to be honest, I'm still not satisfied that anything I have written or published meets the definition of a story.
Someone suggested I try hand copying a book by an author who I wish to learn from. I'm a dyslexic, and love my keyboard! As a dyslexic copying is one of the most difficult things I can do. Handwriting a copy would be even worse! I'd be literally in pain.
I've considered what happens next, which to be honest is probably grab something that lets me get off this world without just starving. I'm not working, and frankly I don't have the skills necessary to pursue freelancing at all, even if anyone would pay, which seems like not any more likely than me growing a set of wings and taking up flying. Instead, I get to explore hell, not that this life makes that as much of a thereat as it might seem. Pain in one way or another has been the totality of my life.
No matter how hard I try, I fail. I fail I fail. I fail. I'm tired of the endless, meaningless struggle to do something meaningful. Life is a lie.