K.W. Turner, kdubs, Kilo Watt Turner - The legend.

This is a draft copy of Lost, Chapter 2 of The Other Side by K.W. Turner, unedited. We will be releasing a good amount of the chapters of this story over the coming week to ten days.

Enjoy.

=============

There is always hope when you have fear; there always needs to be hope. Otherwise, there’s no hope. There is nothingness in life. It’s like a Nine Inch Nails song stuck in my head.

editors note – 20220223 – adjust some ? that were supposed to be emojis that aren’t rendering.

As we stood in the kitchen, my buddy Debo made us some drinks as I prepared to start making dinner. This was the first time that we’d gotten together in some time. I promised Debo to tell him this story for a while now, and I was eager to get started.

“I do not want to be that person who ends everything,” I said as I started to wash up the salad fixings. “I don’t want to live with the specter of that hanging over my head.”

“This is a very long dissertation on being a good person and how easy it is to fall prey to evil. The very thought, the very notion, that one can turn evil in such an easy manner is unfathomable. I would further suggest that it is super saddening.” That was hard to get out.

I continued, “The overall theme as if it wasn’t obvious, I said it like fifty times over the years, it is at the end of my nightmares is blackness. Nothing but blackness. There is no light, and there’s no hope, there’s no anything.”

I thought that I could not allow that to happen for myself or the boys. That echoed in my mind for a while as I put the now cleaned veggies into the colander, allowing them to dry off a little.

Debo motioned me to my drink, a concoction so simple and delicious that I couldn’t resist the temptation to gulp down half the glass of Vodka/Zevia (with some lime to prevent scurvy).

“I can’t let that happen for myself,” I continued. “The people of this country and all of the world’s citizens. This is not a threat, and it’s not a manifesto, not an instruction guide. It’s just a way to talk about a personal hell. I hope that I’m not going there in the first place.”

“Hope it is a multi-faceted gem, as seen with the hope diamond. Hope comes in many forms and is implemented in many different methodologies.” I was starting to wonder if I would be able to get this all out tonight.

“Hope can come from religion. Hope can come from family. Hope can come from a spiritual leader or your faith. Hope can come from somebody you emulate or adore, a celebrity or a role model of sorts.”

I took another sip of my drink and searched for some coconut oil to season my bamboo cutting boards.

“Just a note; because I want to be a dick, I don’t believe that there are very many celebrities or (air quotes) “famous people” (/air quotes) that should be emulated or looked to as a standard-bearer of any sort of hope.”

“When you have people, who are only interested in money, power, wealth,” I continued. “When you have people like that, there is no hope. Our society is falling apart because there is no hope.”

“I mean, for fuck sake, we have rappers who shoot people, often killing them, and we hold them at a higher reference than people who cure a major disease.”

I paused for a second and looked over to Debo, he didn’t look as if he was glossed over yet, so I continued.

“Having no hope is the beginning of a recipe for disaster.” I proclaimed as I was working on the cutting boards… “With no hope, you could easily slide into fear and suffering at the air and then sure evil.”

“Ok, I feel better now that I’ve gotten that little rant out of the way,” I noted. My brain says to get back on track.

“A few days ago, I was awoken with the gentle meows of the meows of Truffle. That was because Truffle wanted to be fed and it was 3:30 in the morning. I sighed through my nose to profess my displeasure with his request. He didn’t care.”

“I annoyingly got out of bed and took a quick bio break.”

“When I turned around, Truffle had enlisted his cohorts, Takao and Shiro. The three of them were sitting there at attention, looking at me like I was fucking with them.”

“I took a deep breath and quietly mumbled something about Ambien and dying going down the stairs.”

“So, we made our way to the stairs. I paused on the third step, hoping that the clowns would start down and therefore be less likely to make my dope ass “crash and burn” down the stairs.”

“It seemed all safe to proceed and I get halfway down when Truffle stops and flops down onto the stair in front of me. What a dick!”

“I step around him, giving him the “half-opened eye” and a smirk that says “sucka, can’t get me.” Today will be a fun day, and I very distinctly recall saying that to myself.

“I fed Truffle, Takao, and Shiro, and went back up to the bed, hoping to get more than 3 hours of sleep before I was awoken again by Truffle.

I walked over to the cutlery drawer and slowly took out a standard eight-inch knife. “Shit, I need to get these knives sharpened. Not like I haven’t been saying that for years.”

We both chuckled as Debo made the turn to make another drink. “You ready for another?” he asked me.

“Fuck yeah!” and I slammed the rest down. “I love only having one giant two-inch ice cube! It’s always good for two drinks.”.

As Debo made the drinks, I took a minute to use the frequently loud sharpening stone to ensure good cuts tonight.

“I hate that disappointing feeling that you get when faced with a lack of continuous or REM sleep. This whole multiple-times-a-night escapade with Truffle was getting on my fucking nerves. And because of that, it’s making me grumpier each day.”

By the time I had finished sharpening the knife, Debo had motioned to come to get my drink. We tend to fill them right up to the brim, where you really can’t pick them up. So, it’s a slurp or two, and then you are on your way.

Debo took his drink, went over to the kitchen table, and sat down. I could tell that he wasn’t bored but very thankful that there was alcohol. That’s not uncommon.

I grabbed some of the veggies and started to chop away in hopes of not cutting off a finger while I was talking away. Typically, it’s the other way around where Debo tells me a fantastic story, and I listen to it while cooking.

“I have faith in myself.” I proclaimed as I was getting back into the story. I smiled as I thought to myself, damn, that was a hard turn.

“This will sound outrageous, but I’d like to end the story here in a minute, not because I don’t want to talk about it, nor that I am worried about losing a finger in the process, but…”. And with that, I started to trail off with my thoughts.

“This’ll be a great time for me to step outside and have a hit on the vaporizer. That sounds good?” Debo asked.

“Sure, I’ll keep working on the salad”. ????? Fuck, that sounded stupid.

Debo is a great friend, and I know he doesn’t always enjoy how dark I can be when I speak. And that’s in regards to the fact that I’m incredibly open and honest and am always willing to discuss something. And what we’re talking about here, Debo knows the complete backstory.

But still, he does not want to hear it when I talk about some of these topics. I respect that, and I felt like I would start down that road, and I know that this is going to be a long conversation. Not in terms of today but… but it’s something that I will have to reveal to him over the next few weekends when we have dinner.

I have a lot of respect for my closest friends. And I’m very aware of how hard it is to keep them. I’ve known Debo for almost 13 years now, and he’s been my best friend.

He’s had to deal with me and my relationship problems with the various exes, and he’s had to listen to some rather gory details therein.

And that leads into the last part I was going to bring up when Debo comes. In from his smoke break. I wouldn’t say I like the sound of that fucking device that I’ve forced him to go outside now. It also allows him time so that he can fiddle with his phone, likely texting with his girlfriend.

“I have faith in myself,” I said again to myself as if I needed to.

I have faith in myself and I have faith in my convictions. I have faith that my strength is beyond comprehension, and that my will is stronger than imagination. I can handle anything that is thrown at me. I’ve stared down anger and hatred knowing all the time that I was better than that.

I knew that I was a human and not built on hatred or living with hate. I never want to be that person.

I think it’s important that when you have faith, it is first and foremost in yourself. If you have faith in a creator, that’s great. If you have faith in some object or a tangible asset, that’s great too.

I continued with the salad.

  • Cucumber [✓]
  • Red bell pepper [✓]
  • Red onion [✓]
  • Romaine lettuce [✓]
  • Balsamic vinegar [✓]
  • Balsamic glaze [✓]
  • Peppermill [✓]

I got everything was set for final preparations for eating when Debo came back in.

He sat down at the table as I worked on getting it set with the appropriate utensils for the evening.

“Please, continue with your last statement about faith,” Debo noted.

“I have faith in myself,” I repeated.

“My feelings on the topic of faith stem from a very simple principle of libertarianism, which is not an official party policy.” And with, I rolled my eyes in the annoyance of having said that.

“Generally speaking, I don’t give a fuck what people do, so long as it doesn’t impact me, it doesn’t hurt children, it doesn’t harm the elderly, nor does it harm animals. Otherwise, if it’s within the scope of the law, I don’t care… do your thing.”

I put the salad fixings together and handed off the plate to Debo, gave him the peppermill and we sat down to eat.

I paused to ensure that this philosophy about humanity was properly registering. “I don’t think this week is the right time to continue, so I’m going to leave it there with my generalized philosophy,” I said, and then stuffed my mouth full of salad.

As we ate, all I could hear aside from the sound of vegetables being destroyed was Every Day Is Exactly The Same, it haunted me.

Hope.
K.W. Turner, kdubs, Kilo Watt Turner – The legend.

Backlinks to other Chapters

DRAFT – Chapter 0 – Lost – The Other Side |2022
DRAFT – Chapter 1 – Backstory – The Other Side |2022

 

K.W. Turner, kdubs, Kilo Watt Turner - The legend.

This is a draft copy of Backstory, Chapter 1 of The Other Side by K.W. Turner, unedited. We will be releasing a good amount of the chapters of this story over the coming week to ten days.

Enjoy.

=============

Chapter 1 of this story is probably, The Backstory. I decided that I wanted to share some thoughts that I have generated and the craziness of my mind.

Recently I shared a blog post with a very close friend of mine, The Reverend, and he was kind enough to give me a critique about it. The issue that I was writing about was how much of a screw-up I feel like, and it was a rather lengthy post, about a thousand words.

Being overly critical about myself, more so over the last 1.5 to 2 years, in the decisions, I have made and how I continue to have to live with the ramifications of such actions.

I’m delighted that I shared this with him as his feedback was fantastic, and below are two pieces of those thoughts. I won’t break them down, I don’t think, but I wanted to share.

“I know you’re in a dark place most of the time. I understand the pressure. I wish I could do something to elevate your self-esteem and prop up your self-worth.”

“The hardest thing for me to learn was self-forgiveness. It took a long time to cut myself a break on some dumbass choices I made. They still haunt me sometimes, especially when I’m feeling down. But I have to remember that I am past that decision, and it’s over—no going back. Still, I’m nowhere near perfect, so I, too, fall into that trap.”

While I hadn’t considered if the conversation would see the light of day, it is essential to note a few things that sometimes get overlooked or are unseen. These are parts of the story, in this case, the backstory.

The issues that I’m going through right now, along with millions of other people, I would add, are the feeling that the walls are closing in and that there are fewer and fewer options available.

What is all that mean? I’m sure that the average person can figure that out, and I’m not going into that part right now, but I want to highlight the feeling of helplessness that one can have when one has nothing. I want to quote Gerald Celente:

“When people have nothing left to lose, and they’ve lost everything, they lose it.”

To me, that is like the walls starting to close in. And that quote is something that I have referred to or generally spoken about for many years. I believe that it has helped me keep some level of sanity in the insanity that is my life.

It was always an option that I had in the recesses in the back of my mind. The backstory continues.

I have nowhere to go if things were to get worse. I will eventually run out of money. I have nowhere to move. I have nowhere else to live. I have been concise and exceptionally clear with those around me that I have no intent or willingness to be homeless.

I am not going to leave my boys. That is a statement of fact, not an opinion.

One of the keys to this backstory is the boys. The boys are everything to me. Without them, I would have found the dark place a lot sooner. They give me hope as I make my way through the darkness.

My Penguin Truffle is a normal, regular black tuxedo kitty, and he is super amazing. He’s seventeen and a half now. He is the last member of my band of three musketeers. Penguin is the nexus kitty, as he has known all kitties I have had, both past and present.

It’s pretty amazing to think about because that covers:

My kitty backstory is so amazing. I am so blessed for what I have had, and for the fact that I currently share my life with Penguin and the boys:

But what happens when you start running out of options? What happens when you have nowhere to go or nobody to turn to because you are by yourself? That is my question, and that’s why it is so important to set that in a backstory, to give context.

This issue has pushed my anxiety levels to new heights, and there is nothing that I can do for myself to help stem the rise or subdue it. Yet another point to the backstory.

What exactly does that mean? What exactly does that statement signify?

Years ago, I dated a gal in a very on-and-off relationship again. Very good human and somebody who I am still friends with. I still play words with friends with her. A very worthy opponent who typically beats me, but that’s another story.

Something that she beat into me that has severely affected my psyche was that, well, two things.

  • One, you are not that special.
  • Two, “Ain’t nobody gives a shit about anything you have to say.”

That in itself is the main reason I have never really pushed myself very hard with my blog, and generally speaking, when I did write, I wrote to say whatever I wanted, not a story, let alone a backstory, because I don’t care.

It was a humbling learning experience, much like many of the other ones that I’ve had where they were either incredibly painful or incredibly financially painful. Like getting married…

But it realizes that you’re not special, just like everybody else and that nothing you do matters to anybody other than yourself. That has been a humbling experience because everybody wants to feel like they mean something to somebody.

Why am I going on and on about this? What is so important about that? Is it straightforward okay? It’s not that simple. That’s why it’s’ called a backstory. Yes, a backstory.

She explained to me while we were together, as well as after our relationship ended, that the intent of the comment wasn’t to be hurtful or mean but to help me come down from my high horse where I thought that I was much better than everybody else, (which I was IMO), and that reality dictates differently.

That was a very eye-opening experience to be told that… to be said that. Some 6+ years later, the damage to my brain has multiplied and, in some regards, been incredibly crippling—a replicating, viral disease intent on destroying me.

The statement made by that ex has stayed with me and still haunts me now. It has negatively impacted several functions of my life. And the two most notable would be jobs and relationships.

And that is the end of the backstory. There will be more to come…

backstory
K.W. Turner, kdubs, Kilo Watt Turner – The legend.

Backlinks to other Chapters

DRAFT – Chapter 0 – Lost – The Other Side |2022

 

K.W. Turner, kdubs, Kilo Watt Turner - The legend.

This is a draft copy of Lost, Chapter 0 of The Other Side by K.W. Turner, unedited. We will be releasing a good amount of the chapters of this story over the coming week to ten days.

Enjoy.

=============

These posts are a story from a friend whom I hadn’t spoken to. I believe that they were lost in their mind, struggling.

Most importantly, you are genuinely interested in hearing what your friend has to say, fascinated with the intricate nature of their thoughts and feelings, and unable to turn away as if watching a garbage truck on fire.

The question is this: How easy it could be to descend into hell if you don’t have integrity or honor, lacking in compassion or morality are completely lost in your mind—completely lost in life.

Most days, I question whether I could slip up and slide down that slippery slope. What happens if I lose my integrity? What happens if I stop caring and allow apathy to take over? Who am I? What happens?

The starting point of this story is to notate and extrapolate, “Hey, this isn’t an action movie script. This is not a fun-filled up and down action thriller”.

And no, not talking about Thriller either. Talk about getting lost in your mind, great video.

No, this is all about me and how easy it would be for me to descend into my own personal hell. To be that which I do not want to be. To become something so awful that it gives me nightmares.

Personal note -> Throughout these posts, we will learn how that could happen to me, how I could have lost it all, and how it could’ve quickly happened to me. And that’s why I am writing this. Lost in my mind.

The Alphonso Mango
The ‘Alphonso’ mango is a named mango cultivar that originated in India. Favored for its sweetness, richness and flavor, the Alphonso has been called the king of mangoes
Secret Freezer Publishing - The home of fairly good content.

You get the news here first. OK, mostly first. But new news is always not horrible news.

We are going to start publishing content that our good friends at kastle.me had previously hosted.

They will be issuing a presser in the next few days to explain the setup, long story, we won’t even begin to try.

But, we will say a HUGE, LOVING, thank you to our friends kastle.me for pushing us to startup our site.

KW, Punis, Misty, Alphonso, and I all are forever grateful for how you have supported us, guided us, and shown the love of real friends.

All that aside, the news is we are going to start publishing content from some of our authors on our site with redirects from kastle.me.

Stay tuned for the original content, misspellings, and all.

News News News

Secret Freezer Publishing - The home of fairly good content.
Secret Freezer Publishing - The home of fairly good content.

Welcome to Secret Freezer Publishings’ new online store. We will offer up all of our authors’ books, like titles from acclaimed authors Punis Russi and K.W. Turner.

We await the first printing of Tales from the Jessica Files and The Other Side. We aren’t sure yet of the timeline, but we’ll be ready soon.

There’ll be a large swath of swag and merch to go with it. And since we are amazing, we are the official merchandise provider for L.S.E. Low Self Esteem.

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