Another Year is Gone...Reflections by Mark Antonious Richfield.

Well, it's me again, Mark Antonious.
As you know, Ms Hauser occasionally asks me to fill in, simply because she is either too busy, or something has put her panties in a twist.
I don't ask. Any of you acquainted with this little spark-plug, know when to stand clear.

I see no reason for her to be in a snit. I read so many supporting words on her last post on an infamous website, (one which at times makes me quite ill at ease) you would think her mood would be happy.

But if you know me or my creator, we both agree happiness may purely be a standard too high for some to attain. So, we quit striving.
It makes for much less stress, mind you. Without expectations, my attentive lovelies, there are no disappointments. Live it, learn it. Yes, we have. There, of course, are reasons to be thankful, one supposes. In times of need, yes, friends do show up. Some unexpectedly, but always received with gratitude. And the truest of true, are forever my safety net. (I love you all, and you know it.)


Nonetheless, the world is a harsh place. So much violence, so much pain, is it any wonder writers, artists, and musicians, create beauty? They hide, my pets, to insulate themselves from a world so coated in shite, one must use a nappy to wipe it away before clarity is regained.

It may be simple for a few to ignore the trolls, which seem very insignificant at the moment. After all, their vitriol is like shooing flies in a world of angry wasps. Wasps with weapons. Hmm, is that a new name for a novel? No. It's not.

I digress.

My point, and of course we all know, I am simply an alter-ego of, well, never mind. We, 'her and I', assume readers are quite intelligent. I think that's a very fair assumption. They read, for pity's sake!


But opinions, they become as pesky as mosquitoes. Though they are many, some can be quashed with one swat, others, simply need a good dose of spray to go away. Do they make a troll-repellent? I take it, common decency isn't enough to repel the buggers. Nevermind, it's an exercise in futility. Whomever coined the phrase, "HATERS GONNA HATE" must have known them intimately.

I do have a bloody feeling I am rambling, and why do you care what I am spouting about?

Because, my dearests, the end is nigh. We shall blink and begin writing 2016. I never thought I'd live to write it. I'm not sure I am glad I am. My world would have been much simpler at 'SAYING GOODBYE'. I do think of the 12 months that have slipped through my fingers, like honey? or perhaps, more like petrol.
So reflective, isn't it? What would have changed if I had not made it beyond my intended demise in that book? That month? That year?

In the end, what we do with our lives seems quite meaningless. Do we truly remember all the little people? The small stars who have worked decades to help advance love, no. We do not.

The accomplishments we have done, yesterday, today, and even in our future, are left behind. We are all the same really; we have hearts (some cold as ice, mind), skin (of every glorious color!), lungs in which to breathe toxic air, and of course OPINIONS.

Let us never forget those. They can make one live or die, laugh or cry, yet they are that and that alone. Opinions.

Facts confuse many. And gossip and rumors are so much more fun! (I am being sarcastic.) As you know, I have been the victim of terrible slander, vile libel, and thankfully not that my creator knows of at the moment of my writing this blog, plagiarism...yet.
But the threat does loom. (someone had the cheek to write on a review, the book may have not been penned by my beloved creator. I assure you my lovelies, they are hers, her blood, her tears, and quite literally, her pain.)

Yet those horrors sound low on a priority list now. My dilemma, if you can call it that...

I am in an awkward situation. I adore police, yet I am gay, I wish for women to continue to have the right to choose, yet, I am powerless, I watch in disgrace as the high and mighty wield their power, both in the political arena, and the internet bollocks-filled pages, which forever scroll to haunt me! that I...Mark Antonious Richfield, truly have learned nothing. In the year that has gone by, I see the same issues- like a skipping LP record, (for those of you who do not know what that is, it was a vinyl item with wonderful music on it, oh, please do your history lessons. Do not ask me what band Paul McCartney was in.)


What's all this about, you may ask...that is, if you have even bothered to read this far.


NOTHING. It's about the complete lack of anything to cling to. Of a dream that cannot become a reality, of achieving one's goals in this short span we call life.

Oh, go ahead, throw your fortunes cookie philosophy at me, tell me how wonderful life is... if only...

But the year is gone. Sorry, if you missed it. Sorry if you lost someone. Just remember, your words, and your deeds, will forever mark who you are- FOREVER in this digital age, we are recorded for life, (Just ask the DOJ)

I do not pray. I do not have hope. I simply have valium.

But for those spiritual enough to believe there's a man with a beard waiting to give you treats in the afterlife, more power to you.

I shall end this ridiculous babbling and let you go.
My question will always remain...WHY CAN'T YOU LET ME GO?

Yes, I know. Steven and Adam and my son, Alexander, have made it clear. But if you want a way to destroy a human being (not a fictitious twit like myself), one who has a heart and a soul, then allow your 'opinions' your hating-mongrel-spouting, your life of giving out snide reviews, comments, and fury, to continue to harm the helpless.

If not.
Have a wonderful season of love and laughter. Because, my lovelies, it is not limitless.

We all should know at one time or another, we shall be saying good-bye.

As the lovely Ms H would say,
Be careful, it's a very dangerous world out there.