So in the hills of Marin County in California is situated the Skywalker Ranch. This is the posh, private enclave of George Lucas, father of Star Wars. It's nestled amongst redwoods and sits a short drive across the Golden Gate from San Francisco. The forests surrounding it apparently inspired Endor, while the giant cranes across the bay in Oakland inspired the AT-AT walkers.

The ranch holds the Lucasfilm Library, a compendium of data and research spanning years of cinema that loving librarians keep on hand for check out only by permitted Lucas Film employees researching for movies or other projects.

What I have heard, living near this area and knowing vicariously some of the staff thanks to hanging about nerdy comic shop circles, is that apparently every. single. book. that is officially licensed gets checked to make sure it passes canon and stays congruent to already established story lines. Now, whether this is true or not - considering how much source material is involved - I can't say, but supposedly this is how the sacred system worked for all the years up to the Disney buyout.

Now of course we expect the mouse to screw it all up, but to the extent the canon has been fundamentally altered I doubt it very much. Disney seems more keen on movies / series / merchandise than book sales, although Star Wars comic books still dominate the shelves as well. That said, it's troubling that they've already fallen behind paying royalties to some Star Wars authors including Alan Dean Foster, a science fiction legend who refused to sign an NDA and called them out on their bad behavior.

We know big corporations ruin things, and yet they persist as inevitably as death or taxes. Mayhaps though, some kind librarians can still save the day - assuming Lucasfilm under the new Mickey ears' keeps them employed.

Today will suck.

It's not a matter of positive thinking.

It's a matter of fact.

There are unpleasant things.

Shit waits for no one.

You need to get this done.

And some things just can't wait.

Today will suck.

It's not a matter of pessimism.

It's a matter of fact.

The situation blows and here you are.

Stuck cleaning up.

Nobody likes taking responsibility.

But today it's your turn.

Today will suck.

It's not a matter of will or won't

It's a matter of fact

Maybe we could have done things better.

Hindsight is 20/20.

Regrets don't move mountains.

Focus on just getting through today.

...

Which will suck.

Explode on your own

Don't take others out

Fly as high as you can

To reduce that fallout

Explode on your own

People don't need that shit

You can just walk away

Sometimes it's alright to quit

Explode on your own

Anger hurts you the most

You'll be fine over time

Bombs don't turn into ghosts

Explode on your own

Because even if you're right

It takes more work to rebuild

And there are better ways to fight

Puberty hit me like a brick at age nine. I remember the day vividly. It sucked.

I had no clue what the hell a menstrual cycle was - I just remember suddenly bleeding, and then my mother having to sit me down to explain that this would be the norm for the next thirty to forty years of my life.

There’s an old joke in the hills - “Never trust something that bleeds for a week and doesn’t die.”

Gods, I felt like death that day. I was so utterly depressed. It felt like my entire childhood had suddenly just been ripped away by the horrors of cramps, hormones, and bleeding like a stuck pig every. single. month. My mother let me stay home from school for a day, just to adjust. Also because my stomach felt like that Alien movie.

I hear men bitch about how they deal with other men, war, work, shit they’ve mostly created themselves (again, other men) - and I’m sorry but if you haven’t had to bleed every month of your life, then fuck you. I was a happy-go-lucky kid playing on a swingset and then suddenly I was a monthly horror film.

And not only THAT but THEN I had to have the talk - again, at AGE NINE - about exactly WHY I bled, and all the wonderful risks / responsibilities that came with it. My mother at least was a sex positive soul - she tried to teach me that sex wasn’t evil, it was natural and you just “had to be careful”.

Careful. Yeah right.

If I sound bitter here it’s because not a single fucking boy I ever grew up with got the “reproductive responsibility” bullshit I had to deal with at AGE NINE, AGAIN - LIKE WTF - and they just ran amok like stupid idiots without a single care in the world. Gods, did I resent them. If I ever fall into a man-hating stupor you’ll have to excuse my bloodlust. Like, literally - if it weren’t for my raging hormones I would have signed up for lesbian land long ago. Like hell did I want to make my situation worse by dealing not only with the excrutiating pain of menses but also the utter degredation and body-wrecking experience that is nine months of hell followed by hard labor - which can also still kill you. Goody.

I hated knowing that just because I had to be born a girl this was my lot in life. I mean, it’s already shit knowing you’re gonna be treated as weaker, stupider, “nicer” (again - bloodlust anybody? really?) while being expected to stay home and do all the shitwork everyone takes for granted. Then there’s all the fun worry about getting attacked/knocked up pretty much every day you decide to go outside because again, men don’t deal with this shit so why would they care who they subject to more suffering? Meanwhile the boys get to go run and play in the hills and the dirt and the trucks, la la la. Fuckers.

Besides it’s natural for girls to have kids - that’s why we program them to love little dolls from an early age and play “house”, so they understand and adjust to their future role. I mean, it wouldn’t do for them to want anything else - they’re already suffering, best to just stay home. I used to watch my girl friends in grade school plan out their future dream homes and husbands and honestly wonder what the hell was wrong with them - how could they want this crappy life?? Especially more than one kid? Are you insane??

...

I’ve been told my programming was missed, somehow.

Like I said, puberty hit me like a brick at age nine. Maybe if I’d had a little more time to be innocent - a little more time to not utterly dread the future - my programming might have kicked in properly.

But otherwise - nah.

Tell some little boy his ass is gonna bleed every moon cycle for the rest of his life until he shits out a watermelon after hauling a keg belly for nine months, and tell me how well he adapts.

Just start

Please

Like you did before

I’m trying

Turning

But can’t hear you roar

I know

Sorry

I didn’t treat you right

Always did

Ignore

My check engine light

I mean, let's question this for a moment shall we?

We lament gentlemen no longer having common decency/manners for things like holding open doors, or offering a coat on a cold evening, or I don't know using "please" and "thank you" while listening attentively to a conversation like any common sense polite adult.

Whilst they were supposedly doing these things at one point in time though they also apparently felt they did not need to give women things like the ability to have their own bank account, the right to vote, equal pay/wages, the right to hold public office, the right to advance to the higher ranks of priesthood/power in a religious organization that literally preached to my best friend from high school that women existed solely for the purpose of ensuring their men got to heaven (women apparently got in only by proxy - and yes, those were Christians).

Then when these things slowly changed over a snail's pace of time (American women couldn't open their own bank accounts without a male's permission until 1974, kids!) men apparently couldn't be bothered to keep up the old good manners because they were too grumpy at having their sexism checked, damn.

So....truly? Is chilvary dead or have we been allowing polite adulthood to hold us back from being actual civilized decent fucking human beings who treat each other with some actual fucking respect?

Thank you for reading.

*bow*

Hey All!

Just a heads up that the second book in my ridiculous smut series (WARNING: REALLY ADULT CONTENT / NSFW / NOT JOKING, I ONLY KEEP IT PG-13 ON PROSE!) is finally ready to hit the sea of smut online and sink to the lonely depths of the ocean!

Here’s the Draft2Digital universal link to the non-Amazon options for those fighting the man:

https://books2read.com/u/3JZ6WK

And here’s the Amazon link for those who can’t afford to fight the man just yet (or aren’t into fighting in general):

https://www.amazon.com/Alpha-Beta-Omega-Ridiculous-Novel-ebook/dp/B09DKFVB3R/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=alpha%2C+beta%2C+omega%3A+the+gold+and+the+blue&qid=1630114694&s=digital-text&sr=1-3

There’s one last book still forthcoming, trying to edit it a bit just so it’s not complete crap (I’ll be honest - these books are NOT anywhere near my usual / best quality of work, they’re basically just a bucket list attempt to self publish something and as they say anything worth doing is worth doing badly - so I always start there).

If anyone enjoyed the first book, then here you go! This one has some of the same characters, and introduces a few new ones who will be the highlight of the third book.

If you missed the first book WAIT until Sept. 4th when this second one comes out officially - it will be on sale for $.99 as a sort of catch up promotion to the new sequel here.

And after that I’ll give this silly side quest up probably for good. I’m not cut out for novels, nor was I really gifted with the writer’s talent, more just a gift for gab that I translate onto page in order to alleviate the suffering of those around me.

Thanks all for checking it out if you do!

- T. W.

I'd say it does.

However, the people who exhibit it, in a world filled with generally selfish asshats, often get drained so quickly by others they wipe out and become either hollow husks of themselves or cold, apathetic shells now resentful of the world that took their light.

It’s important to remember always: Secure your own mask before helping others.

Because sadly we don’t teach people to take care of themselves, even if we expect them to step up and take care of others.

The years pass on

The ideals burn out

like bulbs

one

down

another

down

The fucks run out.

Nobody needs old fashioned

or old

they want

new

2.0

3.0

4.0

You race, you run to keep up

but then eventually...

you stop

one

down

another

down

The fucks run out.

Nobody needs your slow ass

you fucked up

they want

theirs

reforged

renewed

remade

As you reflect you realize - that’s ok

You took your turn

your shot

one

down

another

down

The fucks run out.

The gears shift now, slower

The low ones you

left unused

shift

down

slow

down

Because who cares now? You?

Why bother again?

Who asked?

one

down

another

down

The fucks run out.

...

And you just do your best

with the time you have left

....

And the few things

to truly give

a

fuck

about

it spies a goofball

messy mop of curls

slight grey - sshh

dimpled smile

glasses hiding cute eyes

accenting chubby cheeks

over a healthy curvy body

one with the hint of

abs

above a happy peasant gut

and pasty white nerd skin

unshaven

but sans acne now

with a few tattoos

scattered here or there

(never enough)

and

while I could spin closer

focus on bits of flab

or scars

or poor posture

or a chunky pitbull kinda head

that I wonder how

anyone

could love after all these years

(don't think about it)

instead I just focus on

"Hey - did I remember to put pants on today?"

and then remind myself

eh

beauty's for queens

curves are for comfort

and my smile

lights this mother fucker up