Fight To Write

By Trevor A. Keveloh

(Dedicated to my friend Mathew.)

 Well, here I am, about 4 months back into LA and grinding away again. I’ve been at a serious stand still for a while with my writing, it may actually be the longest I’ve gone without writing anything, at all, other than scribbles of madness at 4am of wonderful ideas, o yea, and some really weird but cool script ideas…But nothing like put together and shit.

I don’t know what my struggle has been but it has to do with my back and forth non sense and the fact that I absofawknloootly refuse to quit on this dream of mine I’ve had since birth. And splash in some bullshit family drama and people, you have yourself a fawkn writer.

My friend Mathew (whom this is dedicated too) gave me some schooling last night. We talked a lot about acting and writing and some projects he and I are working on and he told me that I need to stop fighting and start writing. I need to basically get out of my own head and get it on paper (computer, whateva.) So here I am, trying to make sense of a blog and drive towards a point. I guess what it will be is that we are all writers n shit and the people that actually do write and stop or pause or come across “writers block” need to simply… JUST. WRITE…

There is no other way to say it. (Sorry for hacking the film called Just Write starring Jeremy Piven, but it makes sense.)  Writing like anything else in this world is as easy and as complicated, difficult, boring, and exciting as you make it.

I usually have something exciting or worthwhile to bang out on the old shitboard, but I am kind of keeping my cards closer to my chest that usual these days. With unwelcoming people lurking in the weeds, like a rabid hyenas, ready to pounce when I am injured or distant, but this time, I play differently.

That may have made little or no sense but it was kind of cool to type and think about. I was going to go on with this really awesome tangent of man and animal examples but like I said, keeping cards close to my chest is much more worthwhile than a bunch of jagaloons doing what they do best which is… Jagaloonin n shit.

The block that we writers go thru can last a few months, years, decade and I think after a certain point, most would just say to hang em up… But I am a firm believer in not quitting especially your art, passion and all that awesome gooey shit we feel and want to push out, no not the squirts. Speaking of the squirts, ehh, well, nevermind with that, that’ll be a whole new blog on its open n shit J

So yea, that writers block, no point, rambling bullshit, family drama, friends are friends, exes with pec’s and what not. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I don’t want to really get into a lot because I’m storing it for my acting classes in order to use as motivation, strength and somewhere to pull shit (Feelings) from and I want it to be as pure and natural as possible. I also have this really rad idea for a blog about some really lame dramatic shit that I will write but prolly not post cuz it’s for me n shit. Maybe I will. I dunno. For some reason I feel like I’m typing the inner monologue of Adaptation or something. Because I am actually speaking out loud the words I’m typing rather than keeping it in my head and jamming out to SHM type shit. I even sang a lil. Now this is turning into a letter from the movie Big which I did not intend it to be…So let’s get off this topic and back to the nonexistent one that I am going to trail off into the sunset, alone, while riding a tricycle.

I read back in the day about this really easy way to get out of a funk of non-writing. You just open up a random book and read the first sentence and then build off it into whatever it is you want to write about. I like that idea a lot. So if you have any other ideas, let me know cuz that would be rad.

The holidays are among us and I will be spending them in LA alone. This will be the first time I have been away from my family for Christmas ever and as much as I’d like to spend it with my mother and father; I am choosing to spend it out here. It’s something personal that I want to do and overcome, a milestone if you may. I spent Thanksgiving in LA as well and will continue to spend holidays out here until I feel like I actually WANT to go visit rather than am EXPECTED to go back and visit. That’s what we call choices and they were always a problem for you… ;) So I hope everyone gets nice and shitty at Tha Lawdge or downtown Naper or wherever and sends me pics and vids and snaps and tits and all that shit cuz I may just go hiking or something instead of drinking rum filled egg nog and pigging out on my mom’s cookie factory.

Well on that note I am going to end this cycle of madness and work on some scene studying and some personal growth… I hope everyone enjoyed this shit.

When People Thought It Was The Cocaine...

Last year I went on a crazy weight loss, strength gaining, self-building thing. I really don't know any other way to say it other than a THING. It wasn't some realization or an epiphany or any of that overly exciting shit. It was just kind of like, "I don't want to be fat anymore," (However, I don't mind being chubby.)

I just kind of got sick of being fat and not just fat, but unhealthy. Like my knees hurt, back hurt, was kind of a slob and shit. I was over it. I didn't like how I felt every morning and didn't want to deal with having a heart attack before 40, so I made the conscious effort to lose as much weight as I could.

It started with the idea. I picked a number to get down to. And I stuck to it. I was like a machine. I became obsessed with running, hiking, the gym, massive amounts of water and ESP protein. I was packing in like 140-160 grams of protein a day on average and virtually no carbs and knocked down the drinking to here and there. And when I drank, vodka/sodas and some Jamo. Everything I was doing was working great. I would wake up around 9/10, Pound a protein shake. Walk up to Runyon Canyon. Spend 3hours hiking. Walk down to Ralph's. Get some coconut water, protein bar, maybe some fruit. Walk to LA Fitness. Workout. Head home. Another protein shake. Hit the pool to cool off. Hit the sun. Shower. Go to work. Power down a huge protein meal. Work til 2/3am. Head home. Take some medicine. Go to bed. Repeat.

I did this for months. A good solid 3 months, about 5-6 times a week,or so and I was down from 260plus to 218 and counting. I was a machine and I loved it. I learned a lot about myself. Being alone for hours upon hours and not speaking a word to anyone, including myself. I was so proud of myself after I had to get a few new pair of jeans, tees were too big and I just felt great every day, all day. Even on my occasional morning hangovers, I still got up to sweat that shit out. Didn't care about anything but keeping at the routine. The good people at Happyz noticed and we all talked about all of our workouts a lot. The only thing I was missing was serious weight training, something I recently have been hitting. I was trying to drop the fat then put on the muscle. I was also on a super lean diet so I knew I'd have to change that a bit to really pack on the muscle. However, what I was doing was working and I truly enjoyed it. There was a very intense spiritual side to things. Being in and around nature. Seeing the beauty from a different POV. And the PR's were key. The first time I hit Runyon when I first moved to LA, I couldn't get up the first set of stairs. Total fatboy shit. But after jamming TOOL and saying fawk it, I managed to beat it. Then enjoy it. Then love it. Then own it. I fell deeply in love with Runyon, with walking, hiking, just being outside and embracing that culture. I posted pics and vids of my progression all over social media. Talked and texted with people. I was so damn proud of myself because me, Trevor, no one else was out there putting in the work, every day, all day, making it happen.

And then the haters came to play.

At first it was a strange comment about being broke and what not. It eventually grew into me having a cocaine addiction and it kind of spiraled out of control from there. I was even questioned by my own mother who was worried about me. Rest assured, I showed her pics and vids of my hard work. Spoke with her and explained to her what I was doing was not manageable by a lot of people. She felt relieved, but I didn't. I wasn't upset or even mad, I was thrown off guard that "they" were creating rumors about someone they don't see or interact with and then tried to convince others it was true. I kept quiet or as they say, I took the high road. I didn't feel it was worth it to confront such a ridiculous story. So I just kept hiking, I kept working out, I kept at it. I held my head up high and didn't stop. And it felt good. Better than ever. I was able to defeat my inner self-doubt and even the constant stories that kept coming at me. It felt better than ever to know I can beat em all by just focusing on the goal.

I can't wait to get back to Runyon. To LA. To that world and lifestyle. Indulging in my art everyday. Not giving a shit about anything but killing it everyday, all day, in every kind of way. And when I say "killing it" I don't just mean like being the biggest guy in the gym, fastest guy on the canyon, fattest guy in line at In N Out.

I mean killin it as in, putting it to rest and walking away for good.

Runyon here I come!

8 Types of Kraze Girls You'll Date Before You Meet "The One"

By Trevor A. Keveloh

(Preface)

I recently read an article titled... 8 Types of Crazy Guys You'll Date Before You Meet "The One." It was funny, it was true, it was thought-provoking, and it was just plain entertaining. I tried to figure out a term to call these ever-so witty ONLINE articles aka BLOGS (just like this one) that seem to group everyone into some category and all I can think of is something like, "specific generalization." We are basically just taking the most basic types of people we meet, placing them in a category that suits them best, then just ragging on them until no extent because those people have become our exes and it seems like we just can't play nice anymore with exes, so we all have to LIKE and SHARE all the blogs that pertain to that shit. Like this one...

So in the good spirit of humor, parodies, social commentary and of course, dating, I give you...

8 Types of KRAZE Girls You'll Date Before You Meet "The One"

1. THE HAWT CHIC WHO'S SELFIE COUNT IS HIGHER THAN HER IQ

   I get it, you are hawt, you have a toned body, you "model" on social media, you have nice implants, or a really killer bra, you eat healthy, you wear mounds of make up and every boyfriend you've ever had in your life is a John Cena lookalike. We get it, we do, you are very attractive to the still norms of society, however you aren' just all there upstairs. It's OK though, you can still take the tilted-hat-on-"messy hair"-paint-rolled-on-makeup gym selfie with your tanned as fawk abs showing and that killer cleavage but you still can't tell me who The Rothchilds are, who's buried in Grant's Tomb, when the was of 1812 was and still have a hard time spelling...a lot of shit. But don't worry, you got this my lil selfie-princess, you got this, you'll get knocked up by the right guy who will take care of ya whether or not you marry him or just take half of whatever it is he has, or had.

2. THE GIRL THAT CONSTANTLY TRIES TO IMPRESS YOU WITH EVERYTHING

   This lil overzealous princess who thinks she is a queen is going to constantly remind you everything she has accomplished in her life. Whether it be her degree in business, masters in business, doctrines in business or just letting you know all of her business. Shes going to attempt to woo you with everything she's seen, done, places shes visited, people shes "met" (aka seen at an airport or bar) expensive wines shes tasted, boats shes partied on (did tons of blow on with some dealer.) Shes going to run around town acting like she knows everything and everyone and chances are, she isn't even from that town but is so gawddamn in peoples faces and tosses her money around like Mayweather in Vegas after a big win that people just "like" her because she spends money. She'll do fine in this life once over the hill princess hits 50 and realizes it's time to chill out and just marry some guy who will always look up to her like she's Cleopatra.

3. THE GIRL THAT'S GREAT BUT JUST FAWKED THA FAWK UP

   The chic is basically a cubic zirconia. She's going to shine bright like a diamond, but in reality we now know that diamonds don't shine, they reflect, so when the light hits, she won't be shining bright, she'll be reflecting her fawked up insides that will make you run or stay and get WAY too fawkn close. She may be a stripper, may be a bartender, she may be an accountant, she may be a lawyer, but whatever she is, she is going to initially unload some sock drawers of bullshit, or some not so subtle hints about her past. Then when you get too close she's going to drop the bombs on you like the game 1942 and you are going to eat that shit or run like hell. The guys that eat that shit, will be getting every sob story known to humans about how bad her exes were, her parents were, and in all, her general life is/was/whatever. But don't worry by dear princess, you will find a guy with a heart of gold who's dumb as shit who can just constantly swallow your pill of victimizing and live long and prosperous. 

4. THE SHORT-TERM DATER 

   This chic is usually going to be above average looking to hawt. Chances are she's had one, MAYBE two relationships that have last more than a few months and her excuse will always be about him and never about her. He was too broke. He was too nice. He was too mean. He was full of himself. Everything she says about him will be vaguely true but there will be a lot more to the story. She's the girl that's got about 12-20 guys deep on her phone, most likely coded, guys on her social media that are "her friends," that she always has waiting in the wings to "take her out and treat her like a lady" and all that good stuff. But she's going to jump from guy to guy, usually who is hotter and has more to offer (ah HEEEM, money) and most importantly, who she looks good with on instagram. But we know this princess will marry a great catch, or just some guy who has enough patience and ignorance to never know she still has her eye open for the next.

5. THE GIRL THAT WANTS IT ALL NOW

   This is usually the girl that we meet and she seems really cool and down to earth right away, no bullshit, maybe even has a lot of guy like qualities. But it will turn into a pseudo-fatal attraction quickly if you don't watch out. After a few weeks of dating (fawkn) she may start leaving her toothbrush over, may start leaving her shit all over your place, texts late, texts early, texts all day and night, stopping by your work or even talk about kids and/or marriage with you a few weeks after the first insertion of your penis into her vagina. Maybe she'll even want to merge bank accounts before you two have even become official because that way she knows what you're spending and where. All her sights are set on are marriage, house, kids and all that shit that's been drilled down her throat. She forgot about the fun shit in life like love, exploring, adult arguing and adult make up sex. But this princess WILL find a guy, that's a promise. There are plenty of guys that need a girl like this to keep them in line, or are just like them and are expected to OBEY the American Dream. 

6. THE WHORE

   We all love this treat, all of do. Girls LOVE this one because they absofawknloootly DESTROY her for being promiscuous and it seems like EVERY girl out there LOVES to dog the whore. Guys love her because, well, she likes to fawk and guys are a bit more open to sleeping around and being open about it than girls, still to this day. (Which is really strange in this day in age, but that's for another blog.) The whore is obviously going to use sex to find love, but chances are, she's really just using sex to fill a void in her life, (easily daddy issues, but could be more) or holy shit, maybe she just likes to have sex with men and conquer them like guys do to girls? I mean, mathematically it's not like one girl is banging every guy, but this girl is. She's going to seduce you, she's probably really hawt, or sexy or just knows how to toy with you. Chances are she's not even that interested in dating you, just fawkn you and having fun. She's probably going to be cool too, maybe a little conceited, who knows, but she doesn't plan on closing up shop anytime soon. And you may even try and date her because the sex is great and/or often, but it wont last cuz deep down inside she wants love and this princess will find it with a really nice guy who just doesn't give a fawk about her past and you do.

7. THE DADDY'S GIRL

   O lordy, do we ALL know this girl. She's going to be attached to her dad forever. He's going to support her no matter what and no guy will ever be good enough for his lil girl who prolly banged the second team receivers core at a killer party sophomore year of college. She's going to expect you to take care of her like Daddy IS whether you know it or not. She may even be as weird as making you dishcloth her before sex or something strange like that.. Her co-dependency is going to be cute at first, then annoying, then awful, then just flat out destructive. She'll never know how to do or deal with shit because Daddy Warbucks was always there to do it for her. She's going to have some qualities that initially attract you to her like she enjoys sports or drinks beer or likes video games. Then it will all stop because her dad will try to disown her and she doesn't want to make daddy mad, so she'll leave you and go back to daddy and find another sucker for a while. Ole princess will find a guy one day that will be WAY too much like her dad and he may never realize it, but that's going to be the one she marries. It's OK though, it's just kreepy as fawk. 

8. THE SWEETHEART

   This girl has been a victim her entire life. I'm telling you EVERY guy she's ever dated has, "fawked her over," in some way or another. They prolly "borrowed money and never paid her back," slept with plenty of guys too soon, blew some guy in Tha Lawdge shitter, or what may have you, but when it boils down to it, she's using her above average looks, initially good personality and constantly relating to you to try and reel you in. She's going to be a good person, trust me, a sweetie, but she's using the game to get something. Maybe money, pregnant, or empathetic love. She's also the one on dating sites that, "isn't here for games," or, "isn't here for one night stands," because she plays plenty of games, just not overtly and has banged plenty of doods and feels guilty, so she needs to address that quickly. But it's OK buttercup, my lil princess, you'll find that special someone that will love you for you and never judge you for all those crazy nights of guys, "fawkn you over," after you leave their apartment in the morning.

Carry On My Wayward Son

By Trevor A. Keveloh

I've been doing a lot of "soul searching" and realizing who I am as a person, friend, ex, son, brother but most importantly, human. Something I've discovered that is strikingly intricate to making amends with people is a combination of purpose and outcome.
If you are making amends with someone, or even, something, and your purpose is to, in a sense "clean your karma/soul up," then I believe it will be helpful in your journey through life. If your intentions of cleaning up your shit are in anyway malicious or intent for pursuing something unethical, beware that some shit might come back at you and take a dump on your chest-life. I have personally made amends with a number of people in the past 6 months that meant a lot to me over my X amount of years on this beautiful planet known as Earth. Almost all of those people have reciprocated positively and I truly feel that I am cleaning up most of my unwanted bad juju from my past. Granted there is plenty more some of you readers may be thinking about, but the fact of the matter is this. No one, no one at all lead me to this epiphany/revelation. This was something I figured out on my own, alone, while studying myself from my past, present and moving forward. I kind of just felt vibes and picked up on whatever it was telling me to go forward with an open heart and forgive what has been done, but especially, own up to what I have done.

And I did.

The outcome of making amends can stem from simply purging your shit, getting the corn off your chest or on the more serious side, trying to re-establish a relationship with that person or thing you once broke from. Some readers may be questioning some of my amends, your own, or not knowing what in the FAWK I am talking about. If you are picking up what I am dropping, continue to read this. If you haven't a clue, ask me or someone or just read this because you are this far and who quits this far, seriously, don't quit on me now ese! Anyways, If you are simply looking for some sort of closure from making amends, don't expect that person to give that to you. Sometimes the closure you seek, you've always had, you just needed to get some corn off your chest and communicate it to someone. Not everyone is strong enough, smart enough or ready for accepting that kind of communication from someone or something whom they've had some shit with. And at other times, more deep shit, maybe that amends you are making is the Gods of life telling you that person who are connecting too, need it as well. Maybe they aren't strong enough to call, text, email, myspace message you and express themselves. So the good lord or Allah or Buddha or L.Ron find their way of connecting you to them. You have a dream, vision, come to Jesus moment and you "reach out" (I hate that term but it's become more understandable because of the human element behind it) to that person. Some may think you are trying to get into their pants, some may think you are just bored, some may actually understand the way the world works with energy and shit. But either way, it's up to you to communicate your shit to them, give them the best understandings of your part and move onward, peacefully, with love in your heart. Because when that shit starts to happen, when you open up that wound that you carry around like a mini-martyr birthday cake and you let it go, you feel something special come over you. Something you can't quite describe, but something you feel and internalize. And it's for you, it's a gift from whatever you believe in, for you and only you. And it's wonderful...
Spread the love. Ask someone out for lunch. Reach out and touch someone. Give em a (mouth) hug.

Oscars So...

By Trevor A. Keveloh

Well... After a few weeks of talking about this with a very wide variety of people, I decided it was time to weigh in on this subject with the most appropriate way I personally can...A good ole blog.

#OscarsSoWhite is a cute and catchy #hashtag that got trending quickly and is still trending. With topics like these, I enjoy speaking with any and everyone I can just to get a better understanding of what people REALLY think based on the information given...And that my friends is where I am eventually going to try and make my mark on this. 

The three most "popular" people to initiate and vocalize their opinions of the Oscars this year are Spike Lee, Will Smith and Jada Smith. Spike Lee wrote and directed the film, "Chiraq." Will Smith was in the film, "Concussion." I will say this, I haven't seen either film so I cannot comment on their performances. I plan too soon. My opinion on this subject thus far is this. Ego (When I see these films, I COULD write another blog stating they got a snub.)

Both men are in separate films that they believe, in their heads and hearts, deserved an Oscar nod. They did not receive one. However good, bad, great or horrible these films are, I truly believe that the ego is what made them stand up and call for a bias within the academy.

So on the topic of the academy, I have to say that it's most likely like any conglomerate corporation where it's, "owned and run by a bunch of old white guys." The irony is, Hollywood is a place that is suppose to be very, open minded, liberal, steering away from old thoughts and steering into the direction of new thoughts, constantly, every day. It's a city of art, progression, and everything else pseudo-60's.

Apparently not if these guys and whoever else have jumped onto the bandwagon #OscarsSoWhite

My overall opinion has NOTHING to do with the Oscars, it has to do with the same exact fawkn recipe any and every issue begins with. The foundation. 

I am a working actor with my hands in on some writing and production projects at this time. Everyday I get sent dozens and up to hundreds of casting calls for actors and guess what, everyone, EVERYONE is looking for a particular "type" in virtually every casting call.

The initial issue begins with the vision of writers, directors, producers, casting directors and so on. How come more unattractive people aren't on the cover of magazines? How come all the A-List celebs have sex appeal, great teeth, hair, etc? How come if you are chubby and funny, you will NEVER be a leading man in a heart throbbing way? How come most casting calls looks for "Caucasian male, 6ft-6'2, 175lbs, nice body, nice teeth, VERY attractive?" 

It's because that's what we are programmed to like and look for, that's why. Every once in a while someone comes along and WOOES us with something other than looks or laugh, someone who breaks all barriers and is just outstanding at their craft. Someone who isn't a chubby funny guy or a hot chiseled guy.

But that's "every so often." I got into a great discussion with a friend who is Mexican and quite Liberal and I made the comment that people of other races outside of Caucasian need to "work harder," at making their films Oscar worthy. The quote was taken the wrong way (after a few Jameson's, A LOT of shit can be taken wrong) and what I meant was this. Caucasian people are the majority in most films because, well, its the majority of the race. If we keep focusing on race, we will never break out of that shell of thinking. When I told him other races needed to "work harder" as far as films go, I meant they actually HAVE to work harder, not "go work harder because the color of your skin." If you want to stand out from the rest, don't complain on social media about injustice, don't call for a race card. Go be active, go make a film that's fawkn KILLER and you see past the skin color,  make people forget you are Black, White, Mexican, Asian. Mid-Eastern, etc. Make a film that doesn't have the "token black guy that happens to me the police sergeant that yells all the time." Go against the grain. Stand out!

The Oscars are about film, which is my favorite art form. It should never ever ever be about color, ever. Maybe content, but never color. Art is art, it's beautiful, it's COLORFUL, it's hurtful and it's helpful. We all escape to some art form daily, weekly, monthly, etc. It should never be about color unless we are PHYSICALLY using that color to depict a feeling or trying to communicate something to the viewer. 

That's the only way color should be used in art...

Now jump over here to this...

My FAVORITE film of the year was, "Straight Outta Compton," mainly because that was the beginning of my era of music. That film was incredible in every capacity and I do think it got snubbed for a best picture nod because a film like, "Mad Max: Fury Road," got a nod. I have never been a big fan of action flicks unless they have a great storyline, which Mad Max did. However, SOC was just an incredible film and true depiction of the rise of the most innovative rap group in the history of music. Acting wise, those 4 guys were just outstanding. And that's where I felt it hurt itself. 4 great acting performances in a leading role. It was very difficult to chose the best out of those 4. But seeing all the Oscar nods for Mad Max, I can understand the frustration of some filmmakers. Then I jump over to Michael B. Jordan in "Creed." I loved the film, but before all this hoopla about the racism, I wasn't wooed out of my panties by Jordan's performance. The guy did an a great great job, but I just didn't buy quite a few of his scenes. Sly on the other hand, fawkn CRUSHED it, but it's not fair to compare those two. 

So what I'm trying to say here since I've gone on a few coffee induced tangents in this. The bottom end of Hollywood, the foundation, that is where things need to change, not the top with the ego-driven people who think their art is the best. If you want TRUE change, cast an unattractive man or woman in a leading role. Cast a black guy in a role a white guy was initially designed for. Take a chance on a new face going in for something. Instead of wanting a "Caucasian male, 25-30, 6ft-6'2, fit, VERY attractive," try casting some guy that can act that's... "30's, 5'9, 220, fangy teeth, attractive and blue eyes."

Hey Hollywood, you might be surprised if you open yourself up to new things!

The Story of Roosevelt Collins (unfinished)

By Trevor A. Keveloh

O, o, what a story this is my dear friends, ladies and gentlemen, people of all ages (kind of, not really, more so like mature without an age discrimination; fuck could be said) here we have a wonderful, fabulous, sexy and sweet story about none other than Roosevelt Collins. 

Who's Roosevelt Collins you ask?

Well, let me tell you where and how the story begins. 

Roosevelt Collins, or as we call him, Roose, is a tale, a story, an epic journey about the life of a man who was once seductive, classy a true gentleman and ladies man, who fell victim to the whores of life, the addictions of hate and greed, the awfulness of being a shitbag, but then who eventually saw the light and began to erase his inner demons and find the light again.

Roose was born into a nice family, a large family, with many siblings ranging older and younger. Roose was special because in his home, he was the only child with blue eyes. When he was born, his mother and father looked at him, deep into his eyes and knew he was special and not the special where he needs help putting his shoes on, but the special where he would change peoples lives forever.

We are going to start this tale when Roose was 17. He was in school and had a revelation about life, women, the world around him, work and even the most prolific way to eat and enjoy movie theater popcorn.  His epiphany was based on the morals he had for himself and the people around him. He fought for what he thought was right, was good, was positive and denounced anything that was hurtful, that was harmful, that negatively effected people. He took that knowledge, that change, that charisma and he used it in the best possible ways, especially with women.

He was known to woo them with love, affection, flowers, gifts, pure sincere honesty. Whether it was a lady of the night, a random bang during a vacation, a girl he laid with for a while or even a steady fuck or eventual girlfriend, he wooed them with everything and anything they wanted in their time together. Roose was always a gentleman in some way or another and this ultimately laid groundwork for what would eventually be a destruction of his life.

Roose spent the next several years as a nomad traveling from city to city, town to town and wooing women of all races, colors, creeds and hairstyles. When Roose was in the desert he came across a group of men who were more like savages than gentleman. The problem was they all looked more than just appealing to women, they acted appealing, they came off like true gentlemen, but they were all savagely whorebags who preyed on late night activities to seduce these women. Roose fell under their spell and his life changed. 

Roose spent the next several years as a savage and became destructive towards himself and others. His attitude had changed for the worse thinking that any and every time he would go out gallivanting thru the night, he wanted to lay with a hussy and leave before she woke. He no longer wooed women, he no longer kissed them deeply and passionately, he no longer left "it" in them to feel the explosion. The attitude that he became was one that left women wanting more, but not from him. He left a not to lasting impression in all of these women, a sexual adventure to say the least, but morally just shitty. 

Then one day he met a girl that would change it all.

Her name was Delilah and she was the most beautiful, elegant, intense woman he had ever laid eyes on. She and long thick flowing brown hair that would move like a prize pony anytime she walked. She had the most imperfectly perfect body he had ever seen, she dressed as if she was always going somewhere important and had the courage and confidence of a queen. He saw her and HAD to talk to her and did. He approached her with a walk, talk, step and halfy. 

She denied him because she knew he was kind of a fuckhead and he knew that.

Roose felt as if this was "the one," and he did everything in his power to try and convince her that he was no longer like that and wanted to change, be a better man, not so slimy and shit. So instead of working to try and win the heart of Delilah, he worked on himself. He began pushing tin, he began meditating, praying, speaking with the Gods, he began to be reborn, minus all the gooey placenta and shit. He began to learn about himself internally rather than externally and decided that he would leave for a "Hajj to purity." 

Roose took a boat to a giant island off the coast that was a highly populated place for people that were both spiritual and kind of fucked up. It was where lost souls went to lose themselves and then gain themselves. It was a place of absolutely no judgement at all and if you were ever caught judging, you would be banned from the "Isle of Truth," for good, shipped off to the mainland. 

Roose became one with them. He learned more about himself in that time that he had ever in his entire life. He shook the hands of godlike men, he kissed the foreheads of newborn babies, he learned to play the harmonica and would preform 5 nights a week for the locals. Roose started to become not the man he once was, but the man that he always wanted to be. The women of the Isle feel deeply in love with him, but Roose was unable to bring himself to inserting his TOOL into them, he couldn't, he was saving himself for Delilah and didn't want the comfort of the women to tarnish his focus and goals. Sometimes too much vagina can do that to a man.So he kept his baby batter, his heart, his mind and his spirit intact and continued to fix, recreate and rebuild himself.

After he felt the time was right, he took a boat back to the mainland and scoured the land for Delilah. After months and months of searching for her, he found her, in a home, with a husband and family. He looked through her window and saw how happy she was, running around chasing 4 shitty little brats and cooked for a husband who treated her well, not that great, but enough for her to forget about Roose, to a certain degree. Roose watched and a tear drop, one single teardrop rolled down his cheek, onto his hand, slithering like a worm during a storm, onto his shoe and to the ground. He looked at the teardrop and began to cry. He sobbed, he fell to his knees and asked the Gods, "why, why me, why her, why HIM?" 

Roose felt awakened after that. Something woke up a part of him that he had never known. He had a discovery that was larger than life, this was more than an epiphany, this was the most incredible life changing event he could ever imagine. Roose knew what he had to do. So he set out to cross the land alone to start over.

To Be Continued...