Trick or Treat: Bob’s Saving You a Seat

Hey, folks.

Your Uncle Bob is getting dressed for the occasion that matters most in the year. That’s right, kiddies — Halloween! So what better way than to share the wondrous story of amazement that is The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal from 10/29/19 — 11/2/19 for your Amazon Kindle.

There are no nougat, caramel, nuts (well Bob is a bit off his rocker, but you know that’s just how he is). However, it contains zero calories, sugar-free, gluten-free, all-natural, and no additives except for what life adds. There’s also no razor blades so you parents out there can rest assured that you’re getting a real treat.

Look, there isn’t a sugarcoated pill that’s swell enough to swallow when it comes to suicide; nor is mental illness a joke. A lot of times it gets swept under the rug like everything else going on in the world. Through the stories dark humor and take on the matter, it’s a self-projection of the number of times that I wanted to experiment in certain situations.

Also, to help the fight against suicide, for every paperback and hardcover edition that is purchased, all proceeds will be donated to the following charities. Mission22, American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, and Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors (TAPS).

Remember folks, no one has to go it alone in life. Let’s end the stigma about suicide, and let’s do something about it.

Also, I wish you all a happy and safe Halloween.

As always…until next time,

RJM

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If you are having thoughts of suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

Or, text HOME to 741741 to be connected to a trained Crisis Counselor through Crisis Text Line.

Waiting

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

Nothing is perfect in this life,

There’s no one, other than you, that could be my wife.

We’ve been through so much;

The good and the bad, thick and thin;

Just trying to survive the day as such,

I’ll take any chance with you as a win.

I told you way back when,

“I love you,” remember back then?

Before we were even a thought,

I waited, and waited, time never bought.

Here we are many years later,

Getting older and grayer.

Even though times may get trying,

There is no use in hiding;

The life that exists and lives within;

Babe, it’s because of you that from then and herein;

I am for you, by you, and with you every step of the way.

And though we may at times struggle to make it through,

I’ll do anything I humanly can do;

To show you that I love you,

Especially, when we both said, “I do.”

And though the darkness may at times wash over me,

I look to heaven for your light to guide me.

I reach out for your hand,

Together, we’ll traverse the misshapen land.

In my head, it’s a crowded and loud mess,

I tell you this because I’d share with you nothing less.

I hope that when I go;

Before you, so you know;

I’ll be there waiting, smiling,

“I told you, I loved you so.”

For Kay

Que Será, Será Papà

For Dad

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

 

Whatever will be, will be,

Time is fleeting that I can see.

You were here for a moment,

And gone in an instant.

You’ve left your mark,

Imprinted deep within our hearts.

 

Time is said to heal all wounds,

I keep tearing mine open;

Thought to be entombed;

The only seem to deepen.

 

I missed you then, and I miss you now,

Only I cannot call you and hear you say—

“How are you and the girls?”

I know you told me that we’ll be alright;

That you love us, and you’ll miss us.

 

It’s difficult now, but you’re right,

We’ll be alright;

Because of the love, you showed us.

We know you loved us,

Because we loved you.

We’ll miss you too,

Just as you miss us.

 

In life, we’re here for but a moment,

But in death, we are together forever.

 

Que serà, serà, papà,

 Whatever will be, will be.

I’ll look for you in my dreams,

I’ll see you wherever the sun beams.

 

When the girls ask me, what will they be,

I’ll be sure to tell them.

Que serà, serà, papà,

Whatever will be, will be.

The future’s not ours to see,

But I’ll be here with every step of the way;

To support, love you, and care for you;

And prepare you for come what come may.

 

Life will be what will be,

It’s up to us to seize.

With love for each other;

Even in the darkest of times;

Tis nothing we cannot weather,

Let’s look to our lifetimes.

 

So, let’s hug a little longer, tighter,

Give an extra goodnight kiss.

Our hearts fuller and burdens lighter,

Be sure to say how much we miss;

Each other, even for a moment.

 

For you, from me, and us all,

We love you most of all.

Goodbye For Now

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

 

You had a way about you,

Words were worn like a shoe.

You just knew what to say and do,

There won’t be another dad like you.

 

You were an example of what the best can be,

Now I only hope you’ll be able to see;

The fruits of your labors and watch them blossom.

 

We loved you in big ways, and we loved you in small ways;

Unexpired and transcendent of time;

You were Dad, and you were mine;

Ours.

 

You never asked for much,

And now we miss your touch.

The cold has come and set in,

And our grief…where to begin?

Our hearts are heavy, and we know not what to do,

Dad, what are we do without you?

 

And so, we lay you to rest today,

But before you go, I just wanted to say;

I love you,

Bye, bye;

Au revoir;

Toodaloo;

Arrivederci;

Auf wiedersehen;

Bye, bye;

Only for now.

 

Read 11/30/2018

For Dad

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

 

What can I say except that I love you?

What words can I find to say that I’ll miss you?

Words… there are so many that I could choose—

None though can describe the void that now dwells within.

 

You were my dad, and although some of the times seemed bad,

I hope you know I was never mad.

You did what you could,

I know that I should—

Have sought you out sooner.

Because later has come and now…

You’re gone.

 

I’m glad that I got to see you and make amends,

To show you an example of a man;

I had become and noted all the nuances,

I saw that we were more alike,

Even though miles and years apart.

 

I’m happy you got to see your grandchildren,

That twinkle in your eye.

I could tell you were proud of me,

And I of you.

 

So even though you’re gone from the here and now and ascended to the stars above,

I hope grandma, grandpa, uncle Pat, and everyone else welcome you home.

I hope one day you’re there;

Waiting for me,

The rest of us,

A family reunion.

Where we bask in each other’s company,

That we can all catch up.

 

I loved you then, and I love you now,

I know though that when I say goodbye, it’s just for now.

 

With love,

Your Son

Here and Now

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

 

Here I am with a heavy head,

Having learned my father is dead.

My heart aches and yet I know,

Come tomorrow more will go.

 

Life is a constant, it revolves; out with the old and in with the new,

The pain cuts deep and to the bone, to where I want to spew.

Darkness has never been something I wasn’t acquainted with,

It’s been a love-hate relationship—a fierce smith.

Seeing others though dip their toes in it brings tears to my eyes,

I know, I know, I know that I’ll have to say goodbye.

Today, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year,

What is it though that makes us seldom live in fear?

 

The unknown;

Darkness;

Cold;

All these things and more.

 

I can’t think of life in most aspects in that which I exist any different,

What I can think of were some mistakes and words said that were significant.

 

But where would I be?

Who would I be?

 

The fractures and imperfections that exist within shape our splendor;

Trying to persist through life’s trials and not give up, nor surrender.

 

The dominos have begun,

My life’s tale has been spun.

We live today,

Only a moment to say;

A blink of an eye,

Hello, goodbye.

 

Cherish every moment, friends,

For we will all meet our ultimate end.

The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidalist’s 2018 Fourth of July Special

Happy Independence Day, folks. Or rather, ‘Happy-Wear-Your-USA-Flag-Bikini Day and Shoot Shit Off All Fucking Day.’ Yay!

Heaven forbid if you decide to have to, you know go to sleep early because you have a job; one that requires you to be up early as that son of a bitch rooster crowing, or if you not wearing an some Old Navy USA Flag shirt, or dislike the sounds of fireworks going off until one in the goddam morning, and your dog is howling. Then morning comes around, and you’re left with your eyes sagging lower than your nuts on your left leg because your kids couldn’t sleep. But you know, you’re the inconsiderate and un-American one if you disagree.

Hardly anyone remembers what this day means or what it represents. But since it’s a day off from the weekly work grind, folks sure do remember it then. A bunch of mindless drones.

I suppose it’s not their fault, entirely. We’ve been continually getting more dumb with each generation, that is, the mass population. You get a few bright bulbs here and there, but it’s a small number compared to the majority.

I bet you’re wondering “Bob, what are you doing with your 4th of July?” Well, bucko, lemme tell you all about it. I’m planning on shooting a bunch of shit off until who knows when. I’ve got it all planned out. Y’know, being that asshole of a neighbor. That’s the goal this year anyway.

The day started off simple enough. No itches but a ton of anxiety. We were to have folks over and make it a big shindig. Honestly, I just wanted to be left alone or go out somewhere by myself. It is what it is, though.

So we had everyone over and gathered everyone up for a show off of who’s firework ego was greater. Then I remembered, I hate the Fourth of July. After getting tired of who could fire off the bigger grade of booms, I thought it was time for my show.

I stood up and wandered over to the launcher and readied everything up. I was going to give everyone the show of a lifetime and I didn’t care. Everyone was there, all eyes on dear old Bob. At least the kids were inside playing video games.

Well, I decided to take a few M-80s and string them together (for maximum boom and to take someone’s head off. Namely mine.). I lit them and dropped them in the makeshift mortar launcher that Ted had made. Then I waited for the boom. Let me tell you, it was a hell of a rush. Y’know when you watch Mission Impossible and watching that fuse go? Hearing it sizzle, waiting for the boom. Well, I made some ‘modifications’ to the fuses, because I knew damn well that someone would try to be the hero. Sure as shit, someone tried, but I got the final discharge off. As bad as that sounds, it’s not as bad as the next bit. When I say I got the final discharge, I had my mouth open. So, you can imagine as soon as those suckers shot up, caught them in the mouth and POP goes I went.

When the day reset, the itch had begun, and I figured I’d start with the fireworks show and see what other fun ways I could off myself.

So I went with a fistful of M-80s—that was plenty painful. At least no one tried to be a hero that go around. Next up was a bunch of firecrackers—swallowed them whole. That was a spicy meatball; I’ll tell you. I know, you’re probably thinking, “Bob, that’s impossible.” No, no it’s not. It’s possible, and I do not recommend trying it. I ended up losing my hand on top of getting my insides tore the fuck up.

Those were the fun ones for that part of the day. The others were more like the grilling aspect.

* * *

So, I had my fun going out with a bang. I mentioned last time about grilling and well — let me just bring you up to speed.

The few guys I was having over wanted to have a grill out. I figured, bah, why not. Wouldn’t be too bad. Then everyone was launching their shit. Dogs were barking; cats were going crazy, kids were screaming, it was just a clusterfuck.

Well, I had about enough of it. Sure, people were having a blast and a grand old time, but old Bob? Nah, he wanted no more of it. I had just put the burgers on the grill when it happened. It was automatic I’d say, but then again, it wasn’t the first time where I went “fuck it” and just did what I wanted to do.

So, Bob’s burgers are on the grill, wandered on over to the gas can in the garage. Walked out to the middle of the street and poured it all over me. Then I flicked my lighter and toasted myself to a Happy 4th of July. A lot of people just stood there in shock that they just saw their quiet neighbor torch himself in front of everyone. Some attempted to be quick on their feet, but dear old Bob had a backup plan for that. You see I placed a few firecrackers in my pockets. You know, for that added pizzazz and flair. I must say, though, it wasn’t a great way to go. Self-barbecue. It’s not what it’s cracked up to be, and it hurts like hell. Eventually, though, your brain shuts you down, and well, your body gets well done. In my case, though, I was more medium-well.

I did a few different takes on the day. Each reset I was at a different friend’s place. Each time was a different way to go. M-80 in the gas tank of the car driving into the creek, playing Foghat’s Slow Ride. I made a custom M-80 vest and wandered out back of my pal Sid’s place and lit up, like, well the Fourth of July. At Jerry’s, I fashioned a few makeshift cherry bombs and made it look like I was taking a sip of beer, only to have my face and hand blown off. Then there was Terry’s place. We went into the woods, and I had decided that I would be a Wicker Man. So, I outfitted myself with I don’t remember how many and kinds of fireworks but when we got to the spot and unloaded. I told the guys I had a show for them. They all laughed and said “Alright, Bob. Can’t wait.” That night I lit myself up and gave them a presentation to remember.

The last time was where I had no itch and where I wasn’t really in a mood for offing myself. Crazy I know. I decided to spend it with my family and enjoy the time. That night, my wife and I got to coupling. In the end, it was a good day. Hardly anyone shot their shit off. It was pretty nice. Later on, though, as it rolled into the 5th, I ended up dying in my sleep.

I know, I know, you’re thinking “Bob, you didn’t kill yourself?” You’re right. I was amazed as well. Still, at least I shot my rocket off, and well, it ended up being a happy ending.

Well, until the other stuff happened to me but that’s something you can find out for yourself.

 

 

 

The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal was a writing project by Robert J. S. T. McCartney, here at A.B.Normal Publishing. You can purchase the dark comedy novella, The Chronicles of Bob: the Chronic Suicidal on Amazon in various formats [Free on Kindle Unlimited].

THIS  STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.

Free Kindle Book Until April 19, 2018

Hey, folks.

I wanted to tell you about a free Kindle book deal that you can get just by clicking this link.

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What’s the book? It’s the dark comedy, The Chronicles of Bob: The Chronic Suicidal. My social and therapeutic experiment I did a wee while back. It’s the novella about Bob and his suicidal tendencies, and the results of each death that plaguing a much bigger picture. The ups and downs is struggling with depression (so bad that it can cripple a person) and also the portrayal of “social suicide,” where you kill knowingly kill your social life because you’re so fed up with your fellow human beings.

There’s murder, there’s wit, and probably some parts that will make your sides (or pants) split. Be amazed. Be disappointed? Be ENTERTAINED! With Bob and all his thoughts.

So sit back, relax, and enjoy a bit of downtime with Bob.

Until next time,

RJM

 

P.S. I’m working on a new short story… possible novella involving the undead (yay!) and am fabricating the new season of The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God. I’m excited to share them all with you. /BearSlap to the face. I’m out!

In Other News…

Hey, folks.

I am still adding stuff and being Frankenstein here with the site. Some things might be broken, some might not be. Headaches and alcohol would typically be present, but since I gave up on mass-induced alcoholism, it’s just headaches. Hoo.

The store still has some work to do, and the transfer is being quite difficult…but that’s alright. Thinks will get worked out and it’ll be behind me.

There’s Alpha testing for (WoW) World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth to be done, and a mythic plus (M+) dungeon that needs to be done tonight. I also am compiling some other things to get up on the site and store.

Another excerpt of Lilah’s Guide to Hoyle will also be making a stop, just to annoy you all and maybe increase its preorder count by one. 😉 That will be posted Soon™.

Lastly, tomorrow I am getting mini-pies and they’ll be delicious. Mmm.

Until next time,

RJM

Ten Years: A Poem

Ten Years [For Zelda]

By Robert J. S. T. McCartney

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One

I thought my life was done; when you and your mom almost died.

Two

Darkness took over and nearly ruined my life. I was very blue.

Three

I realized that nothing was going to change by sitting on my hands. I made a change and started to get better. You grew up so much since the last year; I knew the kind of kid you’d grow to be.

Four

I watched you grow and saw how you made people smile. Your laughs were contagious, and soon you’d start school. I still struggled with myself and fought with my mind. The guilt I harbored was massive and cut me to the core.

Five

Your sassiness was profound. You were the perfect blend of your mother and I. Without a doubt, you and your mother brought me joy. I was still wading through the darkness. I’d grit my teeth and fight the pain to stay alive.

Six

Enduring the rollercoaster ride as I stumbled along to keep control. I’d lose my way here and there; fighting myself and getting lost in my abysmal dismal thoughts. Your mom and I struggled to get you the equipment you needed and stood against those who would deny you. It was a taste of something we knew a life this way we would endure, but we knew that together, we could do it. I strayed and started to get lost in alcohol to try to help numb the pain. I had built up a wall with flesh, bone, and despair bricks.

Seven

This was the year when you found out you were going to be a big sister. It would be a new adventure. I wanted to be ready. As hard as I tried, I  know I could have done better. Even as I got help and started to show improvement, I’d take two steps forward and fall two more. I struggled to see the joy of having a perfect family. I often found myself outside looking to heaven.

Eight

Ah, your sassiness was so contagious that your baby sister caught on quick. You slowly opened up to having a sister. I was starting to find my way out of the darkness. My alcoholism would soon be kicked to the curb. I took up arms to further better myself: eating, working out, making an effort to be there for you and your sister. You were growing up too fast for your mom and me. The tears I once shed for the memory of a tragedy, were now tears of joy of having you still. I was beginning to let go all the feelings I had harbored, especially, hate.

Nine

Soon, we would leave our old home and move. It was a new start for us all. I relapsed and retreated into the darkness. I had found some comfort, but the feelings gnawed at me. The realizations and truths uncovered left me scared for us. It would be some time, but I would finally emerge victoriously. I improved my body and mind and would find a balance. I took up the craft that I believed I was destined for. I’ve watched you grow up this far and wonder where has it all gone—time?

Ten

The darkness has subsided and I am myself. I still can’t believe that it’s been ten years. You’ve become such a beautiful girl with a contagious laugh and smile. You’re our world and more, and even though you can be a crabby crab, we love you very much. It’s taken me this long to finally find the strength to cast off my shackles of guilt and blame. I can smile and laugh and be myself. I’ve come to manage my PTSD, depression, and anxiety. I’ll keep fighting and being here for you, mom, and your sister. I know it’s just another year to some, but you’ll always be our little bugaboo and pumpkin. Happy birthday to our Princess Zelda on your tenth.

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For Zelda

Love Dad