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Author Raul F. O.

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Nobody the Blog

Words of a Nobody. Stories to be read and unheard. And the home of quality free short stories. From the series Attropolis to I Write Sins… Not Tragedies, the anual Pilot Program where you choose the next story of the next year from a bunch of short stories.

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January 29, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

The Horrorscope - Episode 5: Down with the Sickness

January 29, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
horrorscope5.jpg

My chest starts to hurt, my arms feel numb. I’m dying. Hey, Kei. Are you doing okay? As the mug in my hand shakes, I put it down. What? He looks at me with concern, I must act normal. Yes. It’s fine. Haven’t slept well. You know… He puts his arm around me and hugs me. We will get to the bottom of this, don’t worry. As the word bottom leaves his mouth, I feel like I am falling down rapidly. Are you sure you are okay? You look awful. I laugh nervously. No, I… I can’t tell him that I feel like I’m dying. We can’t… Maybe you have a cold? Go home, take a day off. The rest of his words… I can’t understand. Earth to Kei. Hello. I look through him. He starts shaking me. Kei. Is someone in there? I put my mug back down. I am going home. Sorry. He slaps me on the back. Good, at least you got that. As I get into the elevator and push the button, I remember I forgot all my things. The elevator starts to descend I start screaming as I crawl down.

Hey! Kei! What are you doing? Kei! A crab arm appears in front of my eyes. Go away! Go away! He gets a few steps back away from me. Are you okay? As I come back from having a waking nightmare, I look at him. I am sorry. Can you just draw the curtains, please? As he does it he asks me again, what that was. I don’t know. I just remembered my first panic attack. He turns towards me. I am sorry to hear that. I heard that it’s an awful feeling. I start laughing. Well, it’s the closest I’ve come to feel like dying yet. So… His face lights up like he finally caught up. Oh, I understand. I nod. It’s something… Riveting. It truly makes you feel alive. He looks at me weird now. It just sounds to me like you are sick. I scratch my head now nervously laughing. You may be right. I envy him. I don’t know how you do it. He looks at me weird for saying that. What do you mean? As I stand up once more, I look at him with a smile. Well, you are so simple… But in a good, kind hearted way. I wish I was a bit more like you. He doesn’t seem to have taken to my compliment. Let’s just get to work. You are horrible at compliment people.

Here are all the pictures of the crime scene. As you can see too, there were no scuffle marks on the door or its keyhole or anything like that. The carpet is completely clean. So, we couldn’t find any footprints. There was no hair, no spit, no blood spill. And on his body, nothing. No marks of struggle, nothing under his finger nails, no outpour of venom, no fabric, and o fingerprints besides his anywhere in the apartment. I start scratching myself. I don’t get it. As I look closely at the key hole of the door. Then how did he die? He taps me on the shoulder. Here is his report. As I grab it and open it, he looks at me with concern. My eyes start to glide over the words as I read the report. What the… As I look at him he stands there and shrugs. How? Did the guy that did this autopsy explain this to you? He shakes his head. Can you please call to have him brought here? I need to ask him a few questions. This doesn’t make sense. He pulls out his phone. Oh, and tell him to bring whatever video of the procedure he has. He looks at me puzzled. This is a special case, you don’t think they filmed the whole thing? This hasn’t happened since, well… Ten years ago. He nods as he puts his phone to the year. Good, and now let’s see what we can find around here…

If you liked this episode of The Horrorscope and can’t wait to find out what he found out, do consider sharing or even donating if you want to keep the short stories free at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

January 29, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: The Horrorscope, Horoscope, Daily Horoscope, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, New short story, New Story, New stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, The Horrorscope Series, The Horrorscope short story series, The Horrorscope part 5, The Horrorscope episode 5, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Short Story, New Release, New Short Stories, literal story, literature, 2020 Short Story, 2020 Short Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, horror short story, horror story, sci-fi fantasy, sci-fi fantasy short story, apocalypse story, end of world story, sci-fi fantasy novel, super powers novel, down with the sickness, system of a down, Literature stories

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January 22, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

The Horrorschope - Episode 4: Icarus' Curse

January 22, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
horrorscope4.jpg

Kei! Wake up, Keiteki! Come on, now. Open your eyes. Why did it have to be like this? I’m okay. He gets up angrily. How are you okay? You just collapsed. I look at the floor as I try to pick myself up. Well, maybe if you had told me we were gonna get to such a high place when you saw my legs shake… I wouldn’t have passed out from seeing through those giant windows. He chuckles. I’m sorry. I forgot you were that much of a wuss. As I try to stand up, my legs begin to shake again. We don’t all have the luck to have wings and fly around, you know? He looks at me weird. What? Who has wings? Who can fly? As I lean against the wall I look at him puzzled. Virgos. Is this not common knowledge? Some virgos can be born with wings like those of a bird. Once they consume their marriage, their wings painlessly melt away. Well, unless they consume their relationship before marriage. Then it’s all painful, as marriage is a holy pact and ritual for them. He starts scratching his head. Okay… Can you now please focus on the task at hand?

Do you guys have footage from the corridor? There must have been a camera at least in the elevator, if not the hallway as well, right? He turns towards me. Nothing. And we checked to see if it was somehow digitally manipulated too. But, still nothing. As I stand on my own now, turn my back to the windows. Did you guys check the windows? He looks worried at the windows. No. Fuck. I quickly turn towards him. Wait, I tell him as I fall to my knees again. Listen. You need to be careful. There are two scenarios here. One. These windows can’t be opened, but, can be pulled out via suction cups. And if that’s the case there are either marks on it or there must be some fibers from the covers of the cups. He turns with a weird expression towards me. How do you know that? I chuckle. Well, when you are imprisoned in an apartment for ten years, you have a lot of free time to learn useless shit. He shakes his head. Right. So, how do we check for that? Neither of us can fly. I start laughing. You won’t like it. But… You’ll have to clean the windows. He stands there in shock. I have to what?

Well, I certainly can’t. Unless you want me to keep fainting. And if I am wrong with scenario one, when it comes to the windows, then scenario two is even more horrifying for me. His expression is one of even bigger worry now. What do you mean? I lean against the wall again. Well, the second scenario is that the windows can be opened. Either by gently pushing against them as they pop in a bit in the room and you can push them to the side. Or automatically by pushing some light switch in this room. He starts scratching his head. I guess you are right. But aren’t you jumping the gun a bit here? You haven’t looked at the crime scene at all. Hell, you barely walked around this bachelor pad. And you still haven’t read the report of his autopsy. Or looked at the photos to compare them to the physical place. I’m starting to think you are an awful detective. I start laughing nervously. Well, I’m not a detective! I’m just someone that had too much free time and got obsessed with something. So, forgive me for not knowing proper etiquette. This is only the second time I’ve been on an actual crime scene… He sighs. I’m sorry. Let’s take it step by step then. Okay?

If you liked this episode of The Horrorscope and would like to help keep these short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

January 22, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: The Horrorscope, Horoscope, Daily Horoscope, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, New short story, New Story, New stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, The Horrorscope Series, The Horrorscope short story series, The Horrorscope part 4, The Horrorscope episode 4, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Short Story, New Release, New Short Stories, literal story, literature, 2020 Short Story, 2020 Short Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, horror short story, horror story, sci-fi fantasy, sci-fi fantasy short story, apocalypse story, end of world story, sci-fi fantasy novel, super powers novel, icarus, icarus’ curse, Literature stories

January 19, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

JACK - Anthology of a Young Wizard - The Pilot Program 2021

January 19, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Welcome to The Pilot Program 2021!

For those that don’t know how I choose the short stories for each year, I don’t. You do. Every year for the first eight-nine months I post one extra story part of The Pilot Program where you read, share, like and comment on the stories. The most popular becomes the short story series for the next year. The winner of last year’s The Pilot Program 2020 was The Horrorscope, and now you have the chance to choose the short story for next year. Hope you like JACK - Anthology of a Young Wizard.

Jack.jpg

You wench! You cheated on me! Taking my money and dignity! I hear a man scream. What’re you talking about? I’m just a washerwoman. The man pulls out a knife. Give me my money back! The man screams as he jumps on her. You women are but a blight on this world. The man says as he runs away. Should I have helped her? No, that’s not why I am here. What did he say? “Jack, go to London. Observe life. See the good, the bad and learn to distinguish between them. That’s how a young wizard becomes a great one, through experience.” If this is life in London, then I shall observe it and not mingle in it. The voice of another man calls out to me. You! Young man! Stop! As I turn around I see a watchman running towards me. What is it mr. Watchaman? As he gets in front of me, out of breath he pulls a rope he had tied around the stick he had on him and ties it around my hands. What are you doing? He looks at me confused as he tries to catch his breath. You… I’m arresting you… For the… You murdered that young lady. Why is this happening? But I didn’t. The man who did ran that way… He smiles. Whatever you say, young man, he says as he starts screaming like a lunatic…

The people start to gather around us as he keeps screaming. Until finally a man interrupts him. What’s the matter. Have you lost your mind? It is the middle of the night. The watchman with a smug look on his face looks at the man. I have caught a murderer, red handed. I sigh. But there is no blood on my hand. He scoffs. He killed that young woman there. Another woman comes crying. Her name was Juliana Prickfield. How could you? You monster! The man turns towards the watchman. What exactly happened? The watchman smug again. I was doing my duty, as one should. And then I hear some glass shattering, a man screaming. So, I did the only heroic thing I could do. Went and checked it out, only to find that woman there dead and him here at the scene. More people gathered. Eventually the coroner and one of the sheriffs arrive. As they explain the situation to them, I can feel the crowd’s eyes on my back, starring at me like I’m the devil. What is your name young boy? I turn towards the sheriff. Jack. I’m a wizard. The watchman quickly interrupts. See? He could’ve used magic to clean himself up… He did it. He killed miss Juliana. The sheriff turns towards her. Did you know the woman? She continues to cry. Yes. She was kind and let me live with her there…

The coroner comes back from the scene. Her throat was sliced and so was her chest, under the breast. It might’ve been a knife, a ripper, who knows, but t’was sharp. And whatever money and jewels she had, was now gone. The sheriff looks at me. Would you tell me what are you doing here, Jack the young wizard? I sigh. I was sent here to… The watchman interrupts me. I bet he stole the money, look here, in his pocket. He pulls out some money. See? The sheriff takes the money and looks at me. Continue. I take a deep breath. I was sent here to observe life and learn to be a better wizard. He looks up and down at me. You don’t look like a wizard to me. And what about the woman there? Did you kill her? I shake my head. No. The man that killed her screamed something about her being a wench that cheated him out of money and then ran that way after killing her. He sighs. And why didn’t you stop him? I look him in the eyes. Because I was sent here to observe, not interfere. The sheriff looks at me weirdly. Take him to a cell, the jurors will deal with him tomorrow. I hear a woman whisper behind me. He doesn’t look like he’s from here… Heard he used a ripper to kill the woman. Glad they caught him so fast. Another woman chimes in. Yeah, this Jack the Ripper fellow is a vile one. Hope they hang him… I sigh… So, this is life…

If you liked this short story don’t forget to like it, share it and the sorts. Because it is part of The Pilot Program 2021, where you decide the short story for the next year by views, likes and comments. And if you want to support the blog and keep the short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

January 19, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: Jack, Jack Anthology of a Young Wizard, The Pilot Program, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Story, New Short Story, New Short Stories, Free Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, Best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Release, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, literal stories, literature, 2021 short story, 2021 short stories, September short story, art, artists, artistic freedom, censorship, hating art, hating artists, most hated artists, love of art, art is a business, business, marketing your art, marketing your book, marketing your paintings, marketing your photos, selling your photos, selling your books, selling your paintings, how artists work, how artists get paid, how art works, selling your music

January 15, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

The Horrorscope - Episode 3: Can't stand up

January 15, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
horrorscope3.jpg

Do you still spy on people? I ask biting on my nail. You know I can’t tell you… The fucker, can’t even drive… Even if we do. I roll my eyes. You know I’m all for a necessary evil. So, you could just tell me if that is the case. He smiles. That’s not the issue here. But why are you asking? I turn to look outside the window. I was just thinking that if you still were, why you’d actually need me? He starts laughing. And you thought that to yourself just now? He continues to laugh. Even after millennia, you can still surprize me. He pinches me by the arm as I scream. Stop looking so gloom. Isn’t this getting you closer to your dream? I turn towards him. You know you could have tried to cheer me up by not tearing any of my damn felt off? He chuckles. Well, it’s fine. It’s gonna grow back. Don’t worry. It’s not like you are going to die tomorrow. I sigh. I know, you wish. You wish you would, he says as he starts laughing again.

It’s up there. He points as he leans on the steering wheel. Are you going to be okay? He asked as he turns towards me. What floor? He starts laughing. You’ll see. As I get out of the car, my legs start to shake. Come, he says as we cross the street between the slowly moving cars. When we got in the elevator, I couldn’t see the number he pushed. There are two officers at the door. They are taking turns guarding the place. You can imagine that this is an exceptional case. His tone completely changed. You saw the pictures. There was nothing. I forgot to show you his raport, I will once we’re in the room. Also, do you know how hard it is to find a mortician when no one is dying? Ah, okay. He still has some jokes in him. Oh, hopefully being away from society for ten years, hasn’t made you more of an asshole. So, just in case, I have to tell you to be nice. They’re still people. Okay? A ding and the doors open.

We turn to the right and a cold wind hits us. Why is it so cold? A dry cold nonetheless. I start to shiver. It’s to preserve the crime scene. Try to slow things down, like decomposition. Or if someone moves, there is now sudden a wave of coldness. It’s like putting the tip of your finger on the surface of a perfectly still puddle. You create waves when you touch down. Same principle applies here. He stops and turn towards me. It’s here to the left. So, don’t be rude. I don’t know why he insists, I think as we turn left. Two officers at the door. One with a big fish mouth and scales around his lips. He was the one standing up. And the other sleeping in the chair. Big fish mouth salutes us as I can’t help but stare at him. I hear the door open, but I can’t stop looking at the man. His lips are so huge and full of volume. Don’t you dare. Get in the room, he says as he pushes me into the room. Sorry. He hasn’t been out in years. Doesn’t know how to behave himself some… Most of the time… As the door closes behind us I fall…

If you liked today’s short story. Please consider supporting by donating in order to keep the short stories free at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

January 15, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: The Horrorscope, Horoscope, Daily Horoscope, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, New short story, New Story, New stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, The Horrorscope Series, The Horrorscope short story series, The Horrorscope part 3, The Horrorscope episode 3, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Short Story, New Release, New Short Stories, literal story, literature, 2020 Short Story, 2020 Short Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, horror short story, horror story, sci-fi fantasy, sci-fi fantasy short story, apocalypse story, end of world story, sci-fi fantasy novel, super powers novel, can’t stand up, Literature stories

January 8, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

The Horrorscope - Episode 2: The Chance of a Lifetime

January 8, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
horrorscope2.jpg

No! There is no reason for me to be involved in any of this. I tell him as I make my way towards the bathroom to stop the water. Listen, you have others, right? You were a team of hundreds. Where’s your partner? That venom spitting dude… He sighs. Scorpian died. He was killed, he says with a sad look on his face. Died? I thought you can’t die. How? How does one die? We’re immortal, remember? He shakes his head. We don’t know. I start pacing around the apartment. What do you mean you don’t know? If he is dead, that means you have to have a body, right? A crime scene? Some clues to what happened, right? So, tell me. How does one die? He takes a sit and takes out his phone. Again, we don’t know. We found him without a breath in his apartment. Look… Here are some pictures of the scene. There were no signs of struggles, no bruises on his body, no nothing. The doctor said that they can’t figure out why he suddenly died. It was as healthy as one can be. That’s why I said we need your help.

I take a sit next to him looking at the pictures. I don’t get it. Over a million years ago, when this planet was still bombarded with asteroids and meteorites. Back in the time where the atmosphere was still thin, when fish started to first crawl out of the oceans and rivers. When we were all hit with these cosmic rays and the radiation from the meteorites from other planets. After the extinction of the dinosaurs from that cursed purple asteroid that took them out and that is now in the middle of the ocean, which also destroyed half the planet to give us that moon and what? Has cursed the fish to evolve faster and faster. Filling this planet with mutations we call today animals and then we somehow got out of it. And what did we get out of that monster of an asteroid? Immortality and these disgusting shapes we all call curses? And now you tell me, that after all that and having tried to kill ourselves with wars, poisonous foods or by smoking and drinking anything and failing spectacularly… That now, somehow. We can be killed? That we can die? Just like that? How old was Scorpian? Fifty five thousand years old? The fucker was young.

I stop in myself from spewing all these thoughts out without a filter and turn towards him. I am so sorry. I don’t know how you must have felt having a close partner like that suddenly die. It must have been horrible. It’s been ten years since the last wipe-out. We still don’t know how it happened. Or why it happened. A billion people, gone, in one second. You should know, he says. You lost your mother, ten years ago. I lean back and look at the ceiling. Yeah. He slaps me on my shoulder with his claw hand. That’s why we need you. Ten years ago you were there when it all happened. I never saw anyone work as diligently to unravel this mystery out. You must have some theories as to what happened. And you must be curious as all hell to what happened in to Scorpian. Besides… I turn towards him. You owe me for this apartment and that you are still free. I sigh. I still loathe it. You know that, right? With a dark grin on his face he looks at me. Yeah. Now come on… We have work to do.

If you’d like to keep the short stories free and help the author, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

January 8, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: The Horrorscope, Horoscope, Daily Horoscope, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, New short story, New Story, New stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, The Horrorscope Series, The Horrorscope short story series, The Horrorscope part 2, The Horrorscope episode 2, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Short Story, New Release, New Short Stories, literal story, literature, 2020 Short Story, 2020 Short Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, horror short story, horror story, sci-fi fantasy, sci-fi fantasy short story, apocalypse story, end of world story, sci-fi fantasy novel, super powers novel, chance of a lifetime, Literature stories

January 1, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

The Horrorscope - Episode 1: When Fate Comes Knocking

January 1, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
horrorscope1.jpg

Fate’s a bitch, and I hate her, I mutter to myself as I watch that day’s horoscope. It’s been ten years since it last happened, and here we are again. They predict that another wipe out will commence soon. I swear, these assholes like to see the world burn and chaos take over. Every year since then, they predicted it, and yet, nothing happened. As these thoughts rush through my head, a stench reaches my nose. Ugh, my felt smells again, I utter as I put my nose to my arm to smell it. Disgusted I go into the bathroom and start a bath, like every single day. At least I ain’t got no horns, or a fish tail, I think to myself as I catch a flea trying to jump off me. No fucking wonder why I itch like this. When the fuck did I get these on me? I ask exasperated. Where was this in yesterday’s horoscope? You might have gotten fleas from some idiot that can’t be bothered to shower. Annoyed, I go check that day’s fortune, before bathing.

“You benefit from a lighter, fresher perspective after heavy energy recently…” Bullshit, I say while continuously scratching myself. “You feel freer and more spontaneous as you interact with others, whether in person or through writing.” Right, sure… Whatever. “There can be interesting things to learn from a sibling, classmate, child, or friend.” Sounds nice, but then again, I’m stuck here. And no one ever comes to visit. “News from a love interest could be pleasantly unexpected.” Oh, hear that Handy? I ask whilst laughing. We’re going to learn and find something new about you today. I continue laughing as I move towards the bath. A violent knock on the door. Open up! A voice shouts. Bewildered and curious, I wait a second as another few hard knocks hit the door and the voice shouts again asking to open the door. I try to peek through the peephole, but all I see is black. I said open up, already! I fling open the door, ready to fight whoever is in front of me. A red claw grabs my neck and lifts me up.

Now, now, that’s no way to treat a friend and a brother. Unable to breath properly, I raise my hand and flip him off. You’re right, I’m sorry for being so rude, he says as he hugs me. You know I mean you no harm, but then again, you’re always so rambunctious. I scoff and ask him what he wants. Look, I need your talents. Hearing this leaves me baffled. What talents? What are you talking about? He smiles, looks around, sees that the TV is on. Oh, well. I think you did hear what they said, right? And I assume you heard your horoscope, didn’t you? Well, of course you have. He says whilst laughing. Someone is trying to replicate what happened ten years ago. Basically, they want to tempt fate. In my head questions start to bubble up and my mouth starts to ask. Replicate? How? How do you tempt fate? He smiles once again. That’s what I want to ask you. As you can see, we each are born with a feature of our zodiac sign. I have this disgusting crab arm, you have your hairy upper body. We don’t die, except when… Well, you know… When all the members of a zodiac sign suddenly die. And that’s why we need you…

If you liked it and want more, don’t forget to share it, like it, comment. Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

January 1, 2021
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: The Horrorscope, Horoscope, Daily Horoscope, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, New short story, New Story, New stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, The Horrorscope Series, The Horrorscope short story series, The Horrorscope part 1, The Horrorscope episode 1, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Short Story, New Release, New Short Stories, literal story, literature, 2020 Short Story, 2020 Short Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, horror short story, horror story, sci-fi fantasy, sci-fi fantasy short story, apocalypse story, end of world story, sci-fi fantasy novel, super powers novel, When fate comes knocking, Literature stories

December 23, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Books, Blog

It has been a while...

December 23, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Books, Blog

Burnout, anxiety, stress, the uncertain future and a lot of other things have collided in the past few months. I promised myself this year that I will be better or that at least I’ll try to be happier this year, with a brighter outlook on everything. And you can imagine how poorly that went this year due to a more than few certain things. And as good the good things that happened this year were, and the fortune of not getting ill or sick, it has been difficult to keep writing stories. Especially I Write Sins, when it all felt so bad. I didn’t feel it was appropriate to keep writing a story about an unhappy man in a relationship that dreams of other fulfillment. Well, that and the burnout didn’t help either. But, I have been writing. The fifth book is a beast and writing it is fulfilling, depressing and fun to research. We also have the cover figured out and I can’t wait to share it with you all. You do have a preview in books to the cover. But, there is a lot to still go before it is all ready to share. Yet, I do promise that it will probably ready for 2021. So, please do look forward to the first page of the first 7 chapters.

The book, isn’t the only thing I have been working on though. That announcement soon tab is also something different that I am trying to work on. It has been an idea of mine for three years already and it is getting close to a final product. Which will also be available next year probably in some for or another. And I can’t wait to share it with you all. Speaking of branching out, I also been trying to figure out a way into comic books. And this next year, I’ll try even harder to find my way into that type of a creative outlet. Even if it is through a platform as WebToons. As we the rest, there is a lot of work to be done and things to come in place before even attempting such a thing. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to find a way to do it through some sort of means. I always loved the artform, whether we are talking the western style or the Japanese one. There is something quite interesting about that means of storytelling and how they manage to do it so well. And the last thing I am looking into doing a bit more is finding a way into writing more games like I did with Questo, which was quite a fun experience.

Now, I explained what happened with I Write Sins…, the book, what I want to branch out to in the future. But, I haven’t quite touched on what will happen with Nobody The Blog and The Pilot Program. Well, they will continue. Starting with 2021 we will have a new short story published on a weekly bases. I can’t wait. These past years have been a treat in trying to improve my storytelling capabilities. Trying to be more meticulous in the writing, with less grammatical mistakes or misspellings and more engrossing stories and characters. To that end, that’s the reason this book is taking so long to write and create. I want it to be better than everything that came before. I want it to be the best I can do right now. And that’s how I want things to be going further, better than what I’ve done to that day. It is to that extent that I can’t wait to share the next year and short story series with you all. When? Every Friday evening, Saturday morning, depending on the timezone you are in. See you all in 2021. Stay safe. And thank you.

You can always support me with a donation at https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

December 23, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Books, Blog

Tagged: It has been a while, Update, The Pilot Program, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Story, New Short Story, New Short Stories, Free Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, Best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Release, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, literal stories, literature, 2020 short story, 2020 short stories, September short story, art, artists, artistic freedom, censorship, hating art, hating artists, most hated artists, love of art, art is a business, business, marketing your art, marketing your book, marketing your paintings, marketing your photos, selling your photos, selling your books, selling your paintings, how artists work, how artists get paid, how art works, selling your music

September 20, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

I Write Sins... Not Tragedies 37 & 38 - Time of Dying & I Wear This Because Life is War

September 20, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
37 & 38.jpg

Intoxicating, is the only way I’d describe my sick mind as I see her leave the apartment for work. The flood of reoccurring questions I see incoming is absolutely terrifying, sending me in a frenzy as they all hit at once. My arms start to shake, my neck starts to hurt, and this unquenchable thirst to scream and punch something is all I feel as I try to avert my consciousness from any of the worries and questions that drawn me in sorrow and anxiety. Pacing around the apartment, with more and more adrenaline flowing through me, my flight or fight response is slowly overflowing as my movements become more and more sudden. Circles clockwise, circle clockwise, I make circles clockwise. Then, stop. Turn right and with the determination of a bull I start to stroll up, turn quickly around and down the hallway. Up… And down. Up… And then down. Quicker and quicker I move until I find myself exhausted with the watch on my wrist beeping that I’ve done ten thousand steps in just the hour and a half since I woke up. So I stop. Though, maybe I shouldn’t have… As it was a mistake.

I grasp for air but take a whole mouth of panic inducing questions as I swallow feeling my heart beat faster and faster. My heart is pounding in my chest, resonating throughout my body. So, I lay in bed. Eyes wide open. Once more stuck looking at the ceiling as my body is taking a trip on its own and I try to keep my mind in place from drifting towards any other new dangerous places. My ears start to ring a tune I grew accustomed to. Minutes pass, there is no new feeling I’m feeling as I go through this once more as is routine by now. There is no escape. There is nowhere to run. There is nothing else to do. I feel the waves overwhelm me as I hold onto the bed and the mattress thinking of thinking no thoughts. Because no thought is better than any thought right now. Yet, I can’t live without thought. It’s the thing I need the most to work with. And that’s how my panic deepens even further. I can’t hear much, not that I even want to hear anything, so I close my eyes thinking that maybe a quick nap.

Do I even feel anything properly anymore? Or are all my senses turned to eleven? Is this how Spidey’s spider sense feels? A tingle throughout your body? Sometimes it feels strange to know that you are just a brain in a jar of bones, meat and liquids. And yet, even aware of this fact, I sit here and tremble with anxiety. Anxiety, how ridiculous is that? Anxiety doesn’t make sense. It’s irrational. It’s so unbelievable to me. The more you deconstruct these the reality we live in, the more absurd it gets. Due to the fact that my gooey blob in my oval skeleton somehow has electricity in it, I get spooked. Why? Because I can see things with two gelatinous blobs in the same oval skeleton or hear with two tubes that somehow also go into the big tube that you can shove things down on and also breath through. Which are all in the same skeleton part, because of course they are. So then the jellyfish interprets it as something you must fear or run away from. Why? Because. I don’t know. We might be aware of the fact that we’re aware, yet are we truly aware if we can’t go past this whole subconscious thing the gooey electric blob has? I’m afraid of how I might think if I were on drugs? If these are my thought sober.

The weird thing is that I were to tell this to anyone, they wouldn’t understand and then I’d get even more anxious. I mean, how can you not get excited about this sort of stuff? Especially when you think that you think things with almost a literal jellyfish that named itself. And then there are people that don’t have a little voice in their heads like I do when they think. Which is even more mind blowing. Existence itself is an abomination that for now doesn’t make sense. If there is no sense before existence that we know how to explain, then how can there be sense in what we do and have right now? Religions and all that spiritual stuff simply isn’t satisfactory. It feels like giving up responsibility, sense and any need for an answer. And I can’t have that if I’m meant to create a sense for who I ought to be, at least. I don’t know. I’m afraid of being wrong. No… Not wrong. Wrong is the wrong word here. I’m afraid of being a bad person. I want to do good, be a decent person at least. And when there’s nothing to approve what you are doing it’s anxiety inducing. I hate feeling like I can’t explain or express myself, when I do it just fine.

And so I spend my days trying to fall asleep when I can’t, trying to work when I can’t, trying to feel normal, when there is no normal. Then after all is said and done, I feel bad for everything I’ve ever thought of or have done. So you wonder what the fuck, when you feel you are stuck in this pit of hell where the only thing that satisfies you is literally doing nothing of importance. As any responsibility feels like a burden and any work feels like you are disappointing someone or indeed, everyone. What do I want? What do I need? Who am I anymore when you drift away to places you have no places being at? All my drive, my will for success, my dreams seem futile in the face of people who chow down without thinking. I don’t want to think about that anymore, it makes me feel sick to my stomach. Well, at least it’s exhausting to think of these things. I can fall asleep in peace knowing that when I wake up, everything could be slightly better or just worse than it was before.

Sometimes, much like now, I feel like I just can’t care to save my life. Like what am I going to do? Save the world? Change people’s minds? Go and fall face first into a pile of money? Get a call from a publishing house telling me that they’d love to pay me a few hundred thousand to publish a book? Delusions! Delusions! I tell you. Dreams of grandeur without the ability to put in any effort is like trying to take a shit whilst constipated, nothing’s gonna come out of it. You know what, I’m not going to continue the rest of the analogy I had, hah. And so, have passed thirty minutes of me trying to calm myself down from a panic attack, yet instead of taking a nap, I distracted myself with weird thoughts that only make sense to me and me alone, which is sad, cause I’d like to share these with people. But how can I share any of those with people when people don’t even understand sarcasm in text? Yet they all say that they have their second language as sarcasm. The only second language you have, Stacy, is the Starbucks menu and the Sephora catalog. Well, this was unexpected, I say as the phone starts to ring…

Hope you liked this two chapter short story of I Write Sins… Not Tragedies. I know I didn’t post last week, this is why we have this two chapter this Saturday. But I was busy trying to reinstall stuff, refind things that I’ve lost with the new Windows install. That, and losing all my bookmarks from the past three years. And it being a very hectic weekend and week overall. If you liked it and want to support and keep the short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

September 20, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: I Write Sins… Not Tragedies, I write sins not tragedies, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, New short story, New Story, New stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, I Write Sins Not Tragedies Series, I Write Sins Not Tragedies short story series, I Write Sins Not Tragedies part 37, I Write Sins Not Tragedies part 38, I Write Sins Not Tragedies episode 37, I Write Sins Not Tragedies episode 38 Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Short Story, New Release, New Short Stories, literal story, literature, 2020 Short Story, 2020 Short Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, erotic short story, erotic story, romance, romance short story, romantic story, romance story, romance novel, erotic novel, Time of Dying, Three Days Grace band, Days, Grace, Time of Dying song, Three days grace time of dying, the end, Dying, LA Salami, LA Salami Band, I wear this because life is war, war, life, clothes, clothing, best rock bands, best rock song, Literature stories

September 16, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

People Hate Art...

September 16, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
people hate art.jpg

This one is going to be a bit long, so what I want you to remember as you read this is the following… I’m trying to give you a perspective as an artist on what I’ve encountered. How people think, act and what they wouldn’t really tell anyone in a public manner. I’m not bitter about what I am doing or anything of the sorts, I’ve had my share of small successes and stories that many people read or loved. I just want to write something… Different. About something I truly and deeply care about.

I’ve been writing short stories for over 10 years now and also published four books. But through my years I also tried different styles, things to get people to read my stuff. I also went hard to learn some marketing, SEO, in order to think of ways of appealing to readers. Whether it’s using the right hashtags, trying to reach to as many people as possible, or simply posting in as many groups as possible. Yet, as the years passed, I have found people that like what I do, people that simply do not care and people that abhor me and everything I write and the fact that I have the audacity to even write and publish anything or even call myself an indie author or a short story writer, when I should be a copywriter or a “creative content writer” for some corporation like the rest of my peers that actually make money from writing. I can’t condemn them, there is no reason to. To each their own fantasy, dream or way of life. Yet, the actual things that I have learned are quite interesting, because we’re about to get into some bad double standards and hypocrisy.

So, here comes the trouble. The older I got, the more I noticed how many talented people I personally know or got to know over the internet, have a certain trouble about their careers. I met other writers, poets, painters, singers, musicians, comic book artists, designers of all kinds, photographers and whatever type of artist you can imagine, I met them all at one point in time. What do all of these talented wonderful people have in common? Correct, none of them are pursuing actively their passion even though they are talented bright minds. 99.99% of them are working at some corporation doing something they do not love, yet need, because without a job, you are not getting paid. Which is fine, but not really. We all have to compromise, I worked in places I did not really care to work at for many years too, just so I can eat and sleep without too many worries. And not every single one of those I mentioned actually want to do it as anything more than a hobby. But, we are going to focus on those that do want to become artists…

Firstly, we have to understand what it means to be an artist in the time we live in. Why? Because I did not talk about marketing, SEO and all that for nothing there. Don’t worry, I won’t get into too many details, I’m just going to brush gently the tip of it all. Whether you are a photographer, DJ, singer, musician, painter, writer, dancer, sculptor, entertainer or whatever else… Unless you are already successful and signed to a publishing house, music label or some talent agency, being an artist means being your own business. You have to think of the marketability of what you are making. The photo you are taking, is it going to appeal to the public? The song you are writing, is it tugging at the heartstrings of people or is it at least catchy? The story you are writing, is it accessible to everyone? How are you going to sell it? What hashtags are you going to use? At what time are you going to post it? Did you make a thumbnail for it? Did you think of a promo? A YouTube video? Did you use the right words in the description or tags? How are people going to find you on Google? Is the cover appealing? And I could go on with countless examples, but what I am trying to show you is that being an artist means business, literally.

Which is why 99.99% of those talented people that I spoke about work jobs that aren’t fulfilling or they are afraid to start their journey on this path of being a business owner and artist. Not only that, but you have to understand that you, as an artist ARE NOT ESSENTIAL. Rather yet, you are here to be either taken advantage of or taken for granted. Sounds like the same thing, the difference is that the record label, publishing house might rip you off in the first one and the second is people simply enjoying whatever you do and not showing their support in any way. And you might be reading this and thinking “That’s horseshit. That’s not true, that’s not how it works. Art isn’t a business. And even so, artists shouldn’t think about the public or what the public wants, but do what they want. That’s how we got all the genius works of Picasso, Shakespeare, Beethoven and many more.” Idealistically speaking, yes, sure. I thought the same way. In reality, that is not how it works. And I can prove it to you. Because you, like most people, actually hate art. I know, sorry for the long introduction.

I want to preface this, by saying that I am not talking about people that cannot afford to go to a concert, buy a painting, a book, a photo, I am talking about the rest. Think about it, statistically speaking most people do not read for pleasure, do not go to art galleries, don’t go to the theater, don’t buy music, books, photos, sculptures and barely even give a like or a share when it comes to small creators. Why? Because… The world of art is paradoxical, at least that’s how they like to call it. I call this a double standard or plain hypocrisy. Harsh words, I know, but, please continue to read. Whenever you are new to something or look for advice to start as an artist you are going to hear a few things:

1. Make whatever makes you happy: It’s straight up bs. Why? Whatever makes you happy doesn’t make others happy, nor is it interesting for others. That’s why you see indie bands do covers of popular artists, maybe they’ll get more views and someone will discover them. Or writers are writing whatever genre is popular now (dark fantasy btw, we’re past non-fiction).

2. Just start doing it: Of course it’s bs. The moment you start doing it and want to share it with a community to start to get feedback, people (both readers and writers, for example) are going to pummel you without any mercy by saying how shitty everything you do is, even though there is no way to get good at something before being bad at it. And that wouldn’t be bad, if it were constructive criticism, but, most of it isn’t. And don’t forget, if you didn’t want any criticism, you shouldn’t have made/posted that. Not just that, but we’re going into number 3, which is a spin-off of number 1.

3. Do something that makes you stand out, something that makes you special: In the same vein of the first one, if you do this, well tough luck. Because the people from number four will call you out by saying stuff like “Wtf is this bs?” and start pushing their own view of the art and how it should be onto yours, trying to mold you into their world-view. Examples from my personal life are: “Why have you written it like that? No one writes like that, you should have written in normally in a first or third person style, without all the script bs.” or “You shouldn’t use many swear words, it’s simply bad and shows how immature you are.” Btw, can we stop this and just take in consideration what the artist wanted to do there before going on the offense? And while we’re at it. Can we stop reviewing stuff after the first few seconds, minutes, pages or episodes? Thank you.

4. Well, of course no one reads/listens/sees what you are making. You have to find your niche: Bs again, and goes directly against the first advice. Why? Because you are more than just a niche or a 2D caricature, you’re a human being with many interests and your talent isn’t just in one genre, which is why you have the confidence to start your own business as an artist, you want to do many things and not get bored or do the same thing over and over again like some office worker. You’re a free spirit, damn it! A true artist. Well, tough luck, because you can’t do what you want. You have to find a niche and exploit the hell out of them, until you become somewhat successful that it reaches a bit out into the mainstream. Why? Easier to market at one niche then it is to market to everyone. See? Told you it’s all marketing in some way…

5. You don’t need an audience to do anything: You guessed it, bs. Any talent agency, LinkedIn profile that is an industry insider, worker or recruiter from a company, publishing house is looking at your social media before approaching you. Whether it’s likes, comments you made, connections you have in the industry, work you’ve done before and the number of people you have reached through streams, sales and views. Because you’re either a sure fire investment or just a risk. And of course, if you’re a risk, well then, good luck. Because unless you have a pitch that will sell them on your idea or talent, you are on your own. Unless you have an absurd amount of money. And doesn’t that simply sound amazing? Having sales pitches for people as an artist? Or buying your way into a career?

And these are just some of the examples from the inside of the art that I am performing, which I noticed in other arts as well. But, you might be asking yourself “What does this have to do with anything when it comes to people hating art?” Well, people, in this case the consumers, since this is a business, are just as easily paradoxical. Especially in this confusing time where we struggle to find a balance between individuality and mob mentality. Where everyone wants to be special, yet no one is special, but that’s an insult, because everyone is special, yet when everyone is special no one is. Because it’s a risk, of some sort. For many reasons, small artists are seen as a risk to one’s personality and character. Since no one likes to hear a “Wtf is that?” or “Do you really like this stuff? What a weirdo.” Of course, exceptions apply here too. Then there is the reality of it, if we look at the statistics most people, as I said earlier, could afford to spend more on any type of art or artist, they don’t, not even when it comes to leaving a like. Why is it hard to even leave a like? Well, it might remind one of their inadequacy, failed dreams, or their fear to follow their own passion. And here you might ask “How so?” Well, because anyone can do it. And if anyone can do it, they (the consumers) could have done exactly what you did. Yet, they didn’t, thus the inadequacy or reflection of failure. Or they might just not care about you and your art and what you do. Which is fine.

There was one other idea someone mentioned, saying “It’s not the art, it’s the artist one might hate”. Really? After countless careers and comebacks from scumbags, whether it’s literal rapists, anti-Semites, racists, xenophobes, homophobes, killers, war criminals, that all had their careers in writing, painting, acting, directing, music that are still widely celebrated today. Can you really say that it might be the artist? The only people really hating them are those affected by those specific people, even tough we all should hate them. But we don’t, we still buy their stuff. Don’t believe me? Do a search on a few of your favorite or most popular artists. I bet you’ll find a few that are absolute garbage. Yet, as garbage as they might be, they are still popular or successful. And even those that “hate” certain artists, it’s because it goes against their own tastes. For example Nickleback, Coldplay, Shakespeare, [insert your hated artist here]. And they don’t just go against their own tastes, but what they think the art form or the artist should be. Which is just another way of hating art. Also no artist is simply hated and that’s why he is unsuccessful. The unsuccessful artists, is one that simply doesn’t know how to sell himself.

Now, do people really hate art? No. Most of them are indiferent or ignorant. Some are just trying to be polite, yet hurt your feelings without knowing that you know that they didn’t like any of your posts, didn’t buy your album when they said they would or didn’t even read the page you sent them to read it. But in turn they all tell you that they support you and cheer you on. Not knowing that you can’t exchange support and cheers for goods and services. Can’t condone them, just pointing out why marketing and knowing how to sell yourself is so important. Because no matter whether you are close friends, acquaintances or were coworkers at some point, people, even those you know, aren’t going to do more then tell you that they are supporting you. Which means your only hope is marketing, good luck and endless days and nights of working to get yourself seen by others. Seen, not selling. Because before I let you go, we’re going to talk about the weird paradox that is trying to sell something as an artist.

To put it in simple terms, DON’T! In any way, shape or form DO NOT try to SELL anything to anyone. Art is supposed to be pure, for the pleasure of it, you know what you got yourself into and no one is going to buy anything from you because you shouldn’t sell your art like that, especially when you are new into an industry. You should do things for exposure. And you shouldn’t act like a multi billion dollar business like Disney, you are just an amateur that wrote one song or one book or took one photo, you’re not a real artist. You’re a band? You better put that song from free on Spotify or YouTube, do not dare to ask for 99 cents. You’re a writer? You better sell that 500 book page you spent endless hours writing it, editing it, paying a proof-reader, an editor and an artist to design your cover for only 99 cents or give it for free, because no one will buy it. Photographer or painter? You better work for exposure and post your stuff free on Instagram to look at. Yet here we are, as people and as artists telling ourselves this bullshit that simply isn’t true. Sure, there are outliers, exceptions to these rules. But for any one exception there are ten thousand people that didn’t have the luck the successful ones that, another ten thousand that weren’t discovered by someone popular that boosted them into popularity, and another ten thousand that died poor and became famous posthumously and another ten thousand that didn’t have the money to buy themselves into a career. Sure, there were another ten thousand that weren’t good enough, but those are just ten thousand out of fifty thousand talented, unlucky, poor, undiscovered people.

Do people hate art? Probably, yes. Why? Ignorance, most likely. People do not understand how artists work, first and foremost. They think that like someone that works an normal 9 to 5, an artists wakes up, paints all day and goes to sleep. Yet, art isn’t that simple. You need to practice, you need to study, you need to think on “Is it good, interesting or new? How will I do this? Does this make sense? Can I afford the time and money to do it? Do I like the aesthetics? Will people like it enough on its on to buy it? How do I market it if they don’t?” and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, as you probably know by now from everything I wrote until now. To make matters worse, it’s been 4 years since I published my first book, and I still have to explain to people that what I do isn’t quite normal and that it doesn’t work the same way as any other job. Then as you read, people do not think of art as a business, and those that think of art as a business, hate it.

Also, there’s the matter of art itself, which some believe art to be something of such emotional power that it shakes you to your core or even deconstructs you from within. That, is something that is hard to grasp for the general audience. But not only that, it is also something terrifying to experience. And let’s not forget, if you can’t understand art, well, that means that you are stupid and that makes you feel bad. No one wants to feel bad, right? In the same category, some art can remind you what a failure you are and what you could have done or become, because look at this person doing it and getting fame and money for it,as I wrote before. There are so many reasons for art not to be understood, misunderstood, hated, feared and much more, that it’s too much for me to incorporate in this post. Yet, I hope you understand it a bit better. And yes, hate is a strong word, yet people dislike or can’t be bothered by art isn’t as catchy of a title. Hope you learned something about how art “works” and how artists have to be more than simply artists to survive, because thriving involves too much luck. So, hopefully now you will support your local artists with more than just a like or a cheer. Also, I did not mention any crazy nut that has an extreme ideology that wants to censor art and have it not be obscene or whatever other things that fall in a any kind of religious, fascist, communist, any dictatorship mentality. Why? Because whether it’s the Christian, Islam, Jewish, Nazi, Communist ideology, they all censor art. So, I’m going to leave it at that when it comes to that, because those are hopefully well known by people and things.

I know, I’ve rambled for quite a bit. But I am a believer in giving a solution, instead of just complaining. The last time I complained about writers and authors, especially the indie breed, my solution was to price any ebook at a minimum price of 5$, instead of selling themselves short and dragging the industry down by giving away books to people that just store them in their kindle library, yet never read them. So, what’s the solution here? It’s simple.

  1. Cut the toxicity out of any art form: How do you to do that? Anyone that is a gatekeeper of any sort, a snob or does not accept any and all forms of the art, must be humbled and made to remember that the more they do this, the less people will be willing to interact with the medium or even be willing to understand it. Also, for the gatekeepers, in this day and age, any information is widely available to anyone that searches even a little bit online. So, even if you wanted, you can’t stop it. More and more indie authors are becoming best-sellers and finding success. Same with bands, painters, photographers, dancers, and so on and so forth, because there are free platforms anyone can use. You might read this and think “Well then, aren’t you contradicting yourself here a bit?” No. Again, there are and always will be outliers. But, that doesn’t diminish or exclude anything I wrote above.

  2. Stomp out the scammers and those that give out the art form a bad name: What do I mean by this? Writers that buy or exchange reviews to get better ratings on site and get quick sales to make a quick buck, should be made fun of and ridiculed, in such a way that those thinking of doing such things, will reconsider once they do a bit of research. This is just an example. Of course you have singers and bands buying bots to play their song on streaming services to get plays and get in some top. Which can be dealt the same way. And I could give you an example from each and every art form where things like this happen.

  3. Be more welcoming: Now, I know the first two sound not so very welcoming, but the truth of the matter is that the market has literally never been as free or open as it is now. Want to publish a book? Done, in 5 minutes. Want to publish a podcast/song/spoken word poetry? Done in 2 minutes. Want to post your painting for sale? Boom, done in 2 minutes. You can do whatever you want and there is no one to stop you but your own knowledge of marketing and how to sell yourself and how to operate like a business. Not just that, but the cultural festivals that become more and more available everywhere are mixing arts. Giving people more chances to be exposed to something new and different. Also, by being more welcoming, you invite new voices to bring new innovation in the art.

  4. Complain: I know I said I don’t like to complain a lot without giving a solution but, the more you bring forth the problems in a certain industry, the more people complain, the more likely the chance of a change. Examples? Every writer’s strike in Hollywood was a success in some way. Not just that, but you also educate people on the problems within. I know it sounds bad to complain and people don’t want to hear it. But people well, look at what is happening when people “don’t want to hear it”. You can’t see it, but I am gesturing broadly at everything regarding 2020.

Well, this has been weighing on my chest for some time. And if you honestly, read it until here, without jumping to conclusions in the comment section, I applaud you for your patience. I rarely write something this long that isn’t part of a book. And, if you have a genuine response that is constructive and makes a solid argument, I am always willing to discuss it. And if you enjoyed this, please do check out the rest of my short stories or maybe buy a book or four. And if you would like to donate to show your support, you can do so at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

September 16, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: People hate art, The Pilot Program, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Story, New Short Story, New Short Stories, Free Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, Best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Release, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, literal stories, literature, 2020 short story, 2020 short stories, September short story, art, artists, artistic freedom, censorship, hating art, hating artists, most hated artists, love of art, art is a business, business, marketing your art, marketing your book, marketing your paintings, marketing your photos, selling your photos, selling your books, selling your paintings, how artists work, how artists get paid, how art works, selling your music

September 8, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

I Write Sins... Not Tragedies 36 - In The End

September 8, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog
36.jpg

I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know if anyone can help you with any of these problems you choose to have. As she speaks, she slowly approaches me. Maybe some things aren’t meant to be thought through and fought on your own. Progress should be slow, painful yet steady and not a jump into whatever future you have imagined yourself to have. And I don’t know what you are trying to convince yourself of, but it is clearly not working. Since you seem to only suffer more by your own anxious hand. I start to break down and cry as something in my chest crumbles. I feel so useless and dumb, I say as she strokes my hair. But you’re not. Things simply are more complicated than you thought they’d be. You’re trying to fight an unwinnable battle against change. Because it takes time, hundreds of years and you don’t have that, I don’t have that. I cling onto her tightly. That’s exactly the problem, I cry out.

Annoyed, she backs off and sits at the table. Listen, she says whilst scratching her head, you know I support you in everything you have and I love you for doing all this. But you are so much smarter than this and yet you struggle to figure out how to do what you love. Why? I stand up looking her into the eyes. Because I can’t. They are my dreams. They are not your dreams or anyone else’s but mine. What I want, you don’t like. What I love, they hate. What I need, they think it’s a pain in the ass to even think about. And I know this. But, at the same time, I don’t know what they want. And even if I knew, what difference would it make? Because I wouldn’t be able to give them what they want. That’s besides the fact that they don’t even know what they want. They barely know what they’ll eat tomorrow, who should they know what to do with their lives or even what to want or need? I am lost in this sea of uncertainty. She giggles. We all are. It’s we just call it life, you drama queen.

Not helpful, I interject as I pull the chair from under the table and sit down. I hate that we just gloss over all these things like they aren’t meant to be solved. I mean, why be decent? Why bother at all when we can’t do the basics? It’s like everyone’s trying to fly planes without taking the damn course to learn how to pilot. It’s absolutely ridiculous and it bothers me beyond belief. If we have a mutual responsibility towards each other… Because in the end it might not matter. Nor can you stop to consider literally everyone, she interrupts me. That’s not what I’m saying, I slam my hand on the table. There are things we all agreed are bad, right? Things that we won’t do because they’re objectively bad, right? So, then why can’t we just abide by the things we made that could make our lives easier? We’re the ones making the fucking rules, we’re the ones that should fucking follow the most basic of them all. Fuck! She gets up. I don’t think you’ll ever find a satisfactory answer to this. And leaves…

Hope you liked this chapter of the short story I Write Sins… I am so so very sorry it is late. But my laptop decided to die on me this weekend and I had a lot of catching up to do. And reinstalling things, which I’m still not done with. But should be back regularly starting this week. And if you want to help keep the short stories free, you can always donate at: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

September 8, 2020
Raul FO
Short Stories, Blog

Tagged: I Write Sins… Not Tragedies, I write sins not tragedies, Nobody The Blog, Short Story, Raul F. O., Short Story Series, Short Stories, New short story, New Story, New stories, Short Story Blog, Short Story Blogger, Short Story Author, Short Stories Blog, Short Stories Blogger, Short Stories Author, Raul F. O. Short Story, Raul F. O. Short Stories, Author Short Story, Authors Short Stories, Story, Stories, Story Time, Series, I Write Sins Not Tragedies Series, I Write Sins Not Tragedies short story series, I Write Sins Not Tragedies part 36, I Write Sins Not Tragedies episode 36, Nobody, Nobodies Story, Nobodies Stories, Nobody Short Story, Author Raul F. O., Author, Authors, Blog, Blogging, Blogger, Blogs, New, New Short Story, New Release, New Short Stories, literal story, literature, 2020 Short Story, 2020 Short Stories, Free Short Story, Free Short Stories, best short story, best short stories, best new short stories, New Releases, Writers, Writing, My Writing, Creative Writing, Creative Short Stories, erotic short story, erotic story, romance, romance short story, romantic story, romance story, romance novel, erotic novel, In the end, linkin park band, linkin park, park, in the end song, Linkin Park In the end, the end, best rock bands, best rock song, Literature stories

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