After much arm-twisting from my wife, I finally published some poetry. Only I did it on Amazon as a kindle book for 99 cents just so she can have a copy for Christmas and then I can go on with my life.

ASIN: B006PUZY78 Such Longing: A Poetry Collection     Product Type: eBooks          Amazon's Price: Price N/A Buy Now!

My life has been about squandered opportunities, not having the confidence to pull the trigger on decisions that would have ultimately impacted the outcome of my life. I look back at the wake of obstacles I’ve avoided and wonder how I managed to get this far, steering my life through the wreckage of lost chances.

Why do I just let life happen, rather than live it. I don’t interact with it, try to control it by turning down the shades. Don’t want the light to shine in. Don’t want my eyes to look out and see what I’m missing. Each new day is squandered indoors by the dim light of a tv screen or computer. By shuttering eyes that dare not see what little opportunity is left for me. I dare not reminisce on what I could have had, how I have not lived. Don’t want to spiral into deep regret.

Today. Today I live. For what little there is left for me, I scoop heaping handfuls into my mouth and savor every bite. If I have to look back at another day and see what I have failed to pursue, I will die another thousand deaths of self-pity and contempt. I do not blame anyone else for my misdirection anymore. My parents are both dead. My loving wife and darling children are blessings not obstacles to the future I can choose to have.

Let’s see how long I can live by this mantra. Seize the day! Carpe diem. Latin, latin, something, something. The End. Fin.


A poem that epitomizes my life long struggle, written when I was still a young man:

ID: 1152712   (Rated: E) Before I'm Rejected By You  The artist fears to commit to his subject. by Always & Forever

I must strive for mediocrity, anonymity even.
Lower, lower I must go! To the bottom
beneath all I shall dwell
The true experience of life here
is to be a bottom dweller.
I must live by this credo!


from
"Stereotypical musings of a white boy in middle class America"
 

Ever feel helpless because you are just one person? Every day you hear about the atrocities around the world. You can pick out a sad story from the headlines any time you turn on the news, reach for a newspaper, or listen to the accounts of the lives about you. It's unfortunate that we feel we cannot unify ourselves to combat the elements that sadden us, weaken our hearts daily.

But I'm reminded, as I was today, there is hope. I just have to trust in the Lord/God, in myself, to do the right things to bring about change. We could also just spread the love and infect others with the joy that could encourage change in our lives and to the surrounding world until all the walls that surround us can tumble down. Its like the little ant, that little locomotive, the one spark that could ignite a fire. Just as we could inflict pain with one little word, we could do so much good with one act/word that is good.

Yes, I'm fresh from this Sunday's sermon. I have my pastor and my son to thank for some encouraging words that resonate in my mind as I type this message. In fact, I was jotting down my thoughts on the church bulletin when I was struck with another epiphany to bring it all home.

The message today was about one little word and how it could have so much meaning and impact -- when words tempt tongues and teaching ourselves to spread love and not hate. And I was reminded how much time I dwell on the negative, the things I cannot change while ignoring the most precious assets in my life...my children.

As my son and I walked up the aisle to take communion holding hands, he gave me a tug to pull my ear down to his level. He had wanted to walk up with his mother who opted to carry his sister and a fight could have broken out, but I had reached back and tenderly took his hand to show him I needed him by my side. The loving act inspired him to say, "Dad, do you think after church we could spend some time together? Just you and me?" How could I deny this request, even though I had planned to write. (I'm writing this now while he is in Sunday school so I do not interfere with our time together when he returns home)

Thoughts were taking shape in my mind about Alex growing up and needing me. Would we still be close and share time together, have a bond so strong that it would do both our hearts good. I thought about the path so many other parents take with their teens, getting disconnected and never being able to properly communicate or respect one another enough to know each others needs, the common understanding of what each face and how they are really in this life together.

When we had returned to our pews, I reached for my bulletin to write down this precious moment to recount in my blog here. I didn't want to lose its profoundness. I started by jotting 'could it be as simple as the precious gift of our time, giving them not only our eyes and ears but our hearts?' After I began to scribble down what Alex had told me, it was time to turn to our hymnals and the profundity struck again like a tidal wave...Hymn number 454: "Open My Eyes, That I May See".

It was all there, discovering the words as we sang about the eyes, ears, and mind, and ultimately, the heart. Three simple verses resonated in my soul. I realized then God had a suggestion for me, telling me I was on the right path to understanding. The sermon about spreading those words of love, about sharing this kindness with my children, seeds of love to plant and watch grow, to carry on the message of His love.

It's so obvious, and we all know right from wrong. But don't we need an eye-opener like this from time to time? Don't we need to feel that special connection to God to let us know he is listening? Timing is everything. It is key to helping us take a moment of epiphany and make it life changing. I have been tuning out my family to focus on this writing that just would not bear fruit for me. But with my children, I have true inspiration. The love I share with them will grow and return to me. I just have to be patient and give it a little time.

I wrestle with not being a more productive writer with the limitations of my vision, mental and physical health, my shortcomings as a human who finds it difficult to interface with this alien internet society. I wanted more from myself, to feel fulfillment from something that would not give back. I looked for rewards, feedback, any message that would say 'yes, this is your calling. You've finally found what you've been looking for.' But I have nothing to reap from what I have sown.

It seems a lifetime since I started writing again and found myself here. I lost my way. There has been so much ignorance to this renewed fire to write that I cannot see where it should be taking me. I need to take a step back and focus on family, on sharing my love with others, on taking care of this fragile psyche so I can be healthy enough to write again...when the time is right.

I have to take these little words and invest them in a loving strategy. I need to plant these seeds where they will grow and ignore infertile soils and seek greater pasture. I'm running out of metaphors!

Guess that's my cue to end it here for now. I really should end it here...take some time and really consider hard the choices I've been presented with today. If I never come back to write, I should still be happy. I have love...God and family. That's all I need to insure happiness. No more of the 'what if', doubting, trolling this empty wasteland to sate my need for some arrival. It's not here. It may never be. It's just a virtual reality. I've got something real.

~ Brian

...hosted by none other than yours truly. It's early in the planning stages...and here it is...

ID: 1390406   (Rated: ASR) Ode To Your Mother...Winners In! CLOSED  First annual event that paid homage to the women who brought us here. by Always & Forever

I've returned to writing articles, mostly at Helium.com...

http://www.helium.com/knowledge/59626-fired-assess-behavior

http://www.helium.com/items/947271-brett-favre-couldnt-finish
 

I'm actually reviewing again...I could use some encouragement. I want to keep reviewing just so I'll keep writing, and stay out of trouble.

http://www.Writing.Com/main/my_feedback.php?action=rrs&only_user_id=bkcompt...

Some of my contributions from the past:

"My Review & Response Pages"  [13+]
 

Here's the problem I have...

I've been watching this go on for a few days now:

"Invalid Item" 

It's ironic that this activity does not draw the censorship that a figurative reference to 'gagged' did in a description line to a poem I wrote.

Tigger thinks of Prancer told me she changed the intro rating to "Careful Not To Sing (Censored)"  [ASR] because it suggested a violent act. That in itself shows ignorance and irony. I suggest how one feels when they cannot speak because of societal oppression/repression and my words draw censorship by being locked into a new rating. Not to mention the way it is done, through a system automation you are helpless to argue against, shoving you further in a corner.

go to "Gagged"  for more on:

ID: 1306079   (Rated: ASR) Careful Not To Sing (Censored)  Coffee shop, writing community, anywhere...you're gagged by the complacency. by Always & Forever

It takes an actor to make memorable lines immortal. It takes a great writer to realize and pen those words to paper, imagining the affect those utterances will have on a captive audience.


 

*******************************************************************
WARNING! EDITORIAL WARNING! OPINION:

Unscripted small talk can make you cringe or it can make you smile. And when it can make you smile, it can REALLY make you smile. I think about this when I watch certain segments of television programs. I especially do not like news anchors pitching their banter about at the end of a newscast. I know they need to kill time before going into station break, but some think they are witty or even funny. Could we just script the small talk, too? Just run a few more words through the teleprompter and save us the embarrassment of watching their gaffes unfold live on the airwaves. The movie Anchorman went overboard with how inanely unintelligent television broadcasters can be, and yet underlined the truth about how undereducated, underinformed these mouth pieces can be.

*******************************************************************

I feel like Erkel sometimes. Ever write something and then come back to it and think, "Did I write thaaaaat?" It's like getting out of bed at night to use the toilet and having no memory of it. It's like driving down those lanes in life before you realize you can't remember passing the Jiffy Lube or the hamburger joint enroute to your destination. And of course, and possibly because of the denial, how that bag of chips magically disappeared when you reach for another nibble and nothing there.

It's weird reading stuff I've written and think about the state of mind I was in. Sometimes, it feels like I've become a completely different person. Some things I write I nail down the first time out. Other times, I struggle with much of the baggage this craft has to offer. I wonder how I can be so different day to day. I wonder how it is that I could leave a little piece of myself behind and not know it, not relate to it. I start to look at the past and think, that wasn't me. It's like you can step out of your shell and into something new. Maybe, like trading in a vehicle. You want something roomy, a little more comfortable. And don't we all upsize with age?

Whatever it was that was me, it's gone. I can't relate to it, as it's in the past. Have to put all that stuff behind me and focus on the road ahead. I really don't know who I was anymore. Just little bits and pieces of me stayed, like the core players of a football team. I just go out and draft a few more character traits, seek to upgrade my talent pool via free agency, maybe develop some undrafted sorts who have what it takes to make my team. I keep rebuilding with the same, or similar emphasis on, my overall game plan and/or concept.

The more I work at this craft, the better I should become. No matter how many skins I shed, it's all for the good. I'll eventually find my goal through this massive transformation as a writer. And if I don't make it, I'll have the journey and the trail I can trace back to the past to bring me forward again.

ah, yeah. did I just write that too? Wonder how many times I'll look back at this and think someone else could have wrote it.


 

I've been waiting for a pay day from Helium for over six months now. I've been twiddling my thumbs and watching the pennies roll in for the hits I got on the articles I have there. Finally, I'm two cents away from being able collect. It's like watching a pot boil. I could use a little help getting those last few views so I can cash out my first $25. Here's a few links...poetry related.

http://www.helium.com/tm/297470/futilitydiverted-river-streaming-sorrow

http://www.helium.com/tm/297498/could-never-shineno-matter

I write on a variety of stuff. It's harder for people to find my articles, now that they've redesigned the site. Probably why it's taken so long to finally get these last few Lincolns.

Please view away so I can stop returning to this website to see if I've finally made it.
 

I got done with my third yoga class in a month and reached for my notebook to pen these words:

"Eternally terminally ill:
Life is my death sentence."

In other words, I feel like the walking dead...in more ways than one. Physically, I've had my struggles. Mentally, I cannot get with the program. Yoga is teaching me and exercising these tired old limbs, in hopes of being productive and useful again. But I'm learning I resist change, I'm pessimistic and my body is failing me where I was once a superior physical specimen. I'm learning I've got an uphill battle and it's not as easy as it used to be for me. I was the type that didn't have to study much for a test. My body needed little help with conditioning. I've been idle in so many areas of my life for so long, I've never experienced having this many obstacles to overcome.

Besides the bad eyesight, my hearing is bad. I can't even balance myself on one foot. I'm awkward and worry that I'll bump or fall into a fellow classmate during routines that move too fast for me. I try to sit at the back of the room so I don't become a spectacle or raise more self-doubt making me want to skip the rest of these sessions. But I know I must preservere. I must make a fool of myself if I want to get ahead. But, I just can't get with the program.

The one thing above all that I'm noticing is these child like fears that keep springing up. It could be something as simple as my breathing. When to breath in. When to breath out. How to measure those breaths. It's reminding me of the panic I felt as a young one, worrying I would get scolded for not doing something properly. I'm actually worried I will be singled out in front of a class of adults because I didn't exhale for the same amount of time as I inhaled. I don't want to be reminded I could make the mistake of inhaling when I should have exhaled. I'm trying to breath through my nose, but I've been stuffed up with respiratory issues on and off since January. I breath through my mouth repeatedly to compensate. Fortunately, as the exercise routines play out, my airways clear up so that I can get some air through my nostrils, but then all the mucous moves to the back of my throat.

All this discomfort, all these ordinary little problems compounded by the larger physical and emotional setbacks, and I keep reminding myself to just breathe...to just stay calm...to stay the course. I'm so much better for it when the class is over, but then I look back through all the obstacles real and imaginary and wonder if this is my life. Do I go through this day in and day out, putting obstacles in my path? Do I make out some obstacles to be larger than most? Why does my childhood haunt me still?

I came to conclude that I'm still seeking rewards denied me by my Dad growing up, even though I thought I had put this behind me. I transfer this onto others who don't reward me, real or unmerited. I know that I should focus on the positives and look away from the headlights of the past that still lock me in, stare me down, dare me. I feel like I still have a score to settle with the old man for all the years he kept me humble, knocking me down and daring me to get up only to be sent to the mat again.

I also wonder if Mom was a bit of a perfectionist who was overprotective and tried to keep me out of harms way, from experiencing life. There are times I cannot fathom how to overcome some of life's little ailments. I have to learn for myself what it takes to become an adult on my own, tackle my own problems in ways my parents could not understand, in ways they could have never been prepared to instruct me.

So, I packed up my bag, put away my mats, got a basketball and walked into the gym. This was where I could feel good about myself, the realm where I once overachieved because I dreamed of making basketball stardom a reality. That course in life is well in the past, and while I'm legally blind and physically in the worst shape of my life, I can still do things with a basketball that others can only imagine.

My body was becoming tight from the yoga, and I had to continually stretch to keep arms, legs and back limber. But, as I pounded that ball into the floor, I could feel all the anxiety, frustration and depression melt away. As I hoisted that ball and launched shot after shot, calm and satisfaction set in. I could hear the net's rip from over 20 feet away, better than I could visualize that basketball quickly passing through its goal. My confidence was returning, my realizations about my true potential came into the light. The illumination of who I am, what I am capable of, made me wonder how I could let it all slip away in the first place. I can't stay more than a few steps away from the core of my beliefs. I have to tether myself to the happy side of this reality, surround myself with those who know who I am, what I am, and stop listening to the doubts.

Now, if I could just drop a few pounds and get some cardio conditioning under my belt, I could make a few cuts on these less than nimble feet. Be nice to attack the basket, leap or knife my way through the air like I once did. It still gives me a special feeling when I walk off that court and know that I can still make a few jaws drop with all the bombs I land. If they only knew...

Now, I'm at the computer typing about my experiences, getting those special little throbs of pain to let me know what areas of my body I've overworked. I'm fortunate that my wife has the day off, as she is out of the house with Maddie. Alone, and in need of a shower, the blood inside my body is warm, a temporary sense of satisfaction. But, I must stop myself now. Time to raise the bar, add a few more goals and keep the focus on the road ahead. Time to say goodbye to the doubts of the past. Time to live like I was dying.


 

Cliche as it may be....I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Yet again, I will have to go to the doctor to treat was ails me with this upper respitory rattle. When I think it has gone, it only retreats for a month or two to return with avengence. I've had a cold most of the summer and have never been this sick in all of my years. Is age catching up with me?

I also have to go to a doctor to see about my problems with my right leg. Seems I have a defective vein that needs to be removed. Have had doctors scratching their heads for months trying to figure out my edema. Finally, this might be the diagnosis I've waited for. But, it involves surgery to remove the leg making incisions in my calf, ankle and upper thigh to pull out the bad vein. Should take a few days to recover. Don't like the idea of being cut open. But, I'm tired of hobbling around on a swollen leg.

I'm having a better time of it now that I've stablized after going off the anti-depressants cold turkey. I feel I am in control of my emotions again. Not that every day life doesn't try my patience, because there are times when I think I'm about to go into a downward spiral. But, I won't let myself. It seems I've taken enough abuse in my walk of life to not let stuff rub me the wrong way any more. I won't give those menaces the benefit of seeing me suffer. In fact, I don't suffer. It's nice to have all this stuff just glance off me as I continue to walk forward. Now, if I could only figure out what direction I'm supposed to be going.

So, I guess if I get depressed it's all this sickness that won't let me see the light of day or at the end of the tunnel. I'm fortunate to have some freedom now to have time for myself to rest with Alex in school again and Maddie at a sitter 12 hours a week. I'm still adjusting and trying to figure out how best to spend my time, develop a routine.

Enough of my belly aching now.

 

One of the areas of this website that I shy away from now are the contests. Some are great for inspiring one to write, come up with new ideas. But what is the purpose of writing for these prompts? To me, it is to show what I can do and to see what kind of response/feedback I can get for my efforts. In the past, I wrote Kansaspoet and enjoyed the process. I have been meaning to return, but have lost my way. Many other contests with or without prompts have come along. I've tried most and failed, either to finish an entry or to provide an entry satisfactory to the judges. So now, I don't give contests priority. And I think about why I don't enter any more, and this is what I'm coming up with.

I think the amount of time it takes to participate is great, and a writer would like a return on the investment to make it worth while. For several reasons, the return has lessened for me. Very little attention is paid to entries. I enter, get a review and that is about it. Just about anyone can judge a contest and if you don't know what the judges like, it's a shot in the dark. I don't even know why some of these folks think they qualify to hold a contest and/or judge it. The reviews seem rushed, don't seem to grasp the concept of what the writer attempts to achieve. The judging is questionable. I find judges can't appreciate anything beyond rhyme, symmetry and meter.

It feels like some don't appreciate the effort it takes some to participate, even admonishing aimlessly because of the low number of entries. Or, they give reviews that don't properly thank, and some just go right into criticizing. I got two such reviews from a member who I thought was a friend, who picked apart my work with no apologies. A person who previously suggested poetry was not their thing. So why try to judge and shoot down what I thought were some decent efforts?

The whole process was becoming pretty disappointing. Thankfully, I'm getting plenty of attention from my Rising Star friends, mainly Gabriella who has awarded three or more of my works inside of two months, I want to say. She has been very encouraging. I tell you, my membership is due to run out in a few months, and I'm not too thrilled about staying on because of the kind of response I get on a variety of things. I have made some great contacts, but I really don't need to keep 225 items online or spend all the time dressing up my port for such disappointing outcomes. The free membership is basically all I need.

I pretty much stopped gabbing in scroll because it is always the same old stuff. Mostly puns, wordplay and some imaginative interactions aside from a bunch of 'hello' and 'how are yous'. I stopped participating in forums because they are barely interactive. There is little give and take. I feel reviewing other members is the greatest way to make contacts. Some people will return the favor and provide decent commentary. I've found a few members to keep me on my toes. But keeping the lines of communication open is pretty difficult, making me pursue input. That usually results in a less than favorable outcome. I'm starting to the think the online thing is good for just a few things.

One, is introducing new items. I can keep the minimum 10 items here and review folks to keep lines of communication open. Two, is I can follow groups and contests to see what is happening. I can still watch what they are talking about in scroll to know what the latest is. Three, I'll have a port with email set up where I can direct people from around the net and in my travels to look at my work. I don't need over 200 items. I don't need a book. I can post a few chapters. A writer doesn't need to post a whole book online. I worry about others who could take my works and rewrite to suit themselves, as there is much of that rewriting of copyrighted material going around, as with freelance writing articles on the internet. You can practically rewrite anything and have it pass copyscape or whatever without infringement.

So, don't need tons of space. And I can link to another webpage where I'm allowed to have lots of free webspace where people can review without the bother of ratings and other crap. They can just leave feedback without all the posturing and other stuff that strains potential relationships from forming.

So, I guess I'm leaning toward letting my upgrade expire in November. I'll just take down what I don't need to leave up. I had a good run. I'm not going to get any further accolades than I'm getting for the occasional item, so it's not worth the extra investment.

I just want to get serious about writing again and leave the better portion of my time here behind me. I'll savor and keep the few worthwhile acquaintances I've made in hopes of furthering myself as a writer. Despite what I failed to accomplish here in one year, I think I'm better for the experience overall. I worry for others who'll fall into a trap of false expectations. I wish I could warn them somehow on how to avoid the pitfalls to get the greatest rewards from being a member here. I've done what I can. I have to close the door on that as well. I have to put myself first now and stop looking back

Brian


 

It's not easy to lose a friend, especially one that means well. She has been kind and has made my experience here a bit more enjoyable. But, either she is young and naive or just too stubborn to realize that she can be offensive when she thinks she's taking care of business. Friends and business...? I'm beginning to think that she might have only seen me as an acquaintance or just another member. I don't know her really all that well, and perhaps friend is using the term a bit too loosely. But really, how much do we really know about one another in this writing community? So a friend she was.

But, because she is in a position to oversee activities here as a moderator, she became overzealous in the handling of an introductory rating of one of my works that I actually sent to her for consideration at her request. What she did was change the intro rating on it, activating the automated message system letting me know my poem was handcuffed with the rating change. I didn't have any way of knowing who did it, but my suspicions were aroused.

What complicates the story is the necessity of the gag. The word was 'gagged' to suggest societal oppression/repression. Pretty ironic I thought that a work that was about the restrictiveness of the world around us (inside this very writing community) will not allow us to come out of our closets and cages to express freely who we are. The interpretation of the word as 'violence' failed to take into account the figurative connotation of the word, the repression of expression. Does anyone believe this is offensive?

ID: 1306079   (Rated: ASR) Careful Not To Sing (Censored)  Coffee shop, writing community, anywhere...you're gagged by the complacency. by Always & Forever

Good to see my readership is back, but disappointed it had to be here.

I started another blog in hopes of turning over a new leaf. I had my one year anniversary that came and went quietly. I made a resolution to put a positive focus on my writing. With the new blog (ReStart), I've kept the old journal (blog) active as a link. But when I find so many people reading the old blog instead of the new (ReStart), I have to wonder.

I had no idea that in the dead of night, my old journal would get eight hits. I set it to private while I slept and made it public again...in a few hours I had four more hits. Now it's up to 17, and my current blog, which I updated with two new poems, doesn't even register a blip on my summary stats radar screen. My old journal must be a fav out there.

Unfortunate there is more interest in the old journal. I do not desire to rant. I do have an open investigation of certain unresolved matters, but it is on the back burner. If something does come up, I will only post here...but not to broadcast enmasse. Mostly, the purpose is record keeping and sharing with those who've voiced an interest and may have something to share. With ReStart (current blog), I want the focus back on the writing and where I'm taking it. Maybe, I'll keep myself on course this time.

I have a resolution, a new start; happy to have readers again, sorry it had to be this way.


50% Italian; 100% Emotional
 

I found this link http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/ywsblog/?p=63 and was interested to learn about this site and what others might think about it. I also think it would be a great site to visit and to give your feedback, no matter how you feel about this site or the comments that were left there (heavily negative at this point).

I've toyed with leaving my own remarks, but would like to see if others will comment further. I think one of the reviewers comments needs to be amended about the rating system. I've never seen people post their opinions about this website outside of this realm before. Don't know if that's a good thing or bad or what.

I continue to hunt the internet to learn whatever I can about the opinions outside of this place, hopefully get a clearer image of the nature of this beast. I've copied and saved the blog by Jem before she left. There was a lot to consume and was quite surprised to see how things played out with this leukemia situation and Raven. Don't know if Raven is around (here) anymore, but know Jem left for good less than an hour before I was able to save the blog and all the comments surrounding Raven and the Mods who question her illness.

It does concern me to think my privacy here is not secure...based on a cross section of feedback I've had, my personal experiences and reading this blog. I can only wonder. But, I will doggedly pursue answers to my questions. I have strong suspicions and have been piecing together a lot of circumstantial evidence, biding my time until the concrete facts come shining through. I don't care if it takes years, I will employ the help I need to crack some of these mysteries.

Just an addendum to sites that feature articles about Writing.Com and found this piece: http://www.mouthshut.com/review/Writing.com-62445-1.html ...which was not well written or researched with some inaccuracies, but paints a more positive, albeit naive, picture of this website.

 

I'm on a fact finding mission. Been pointed to several ports and have read some pretty interesting blogs...just in the past few hours. Something I'm working on for myself is a survey of members who may have been directed to send manuscripts to Whitmore Publishing. I'd like to get this survey out to as many members as possible in hopes of learning who has come in contact with this long-standing, traditional publisher.

ID: 1297294   (Rated: E) Recommended Publisher  The names of some publishers have been making the rounds lately...have you heard? by Always & Forever

It's been very encouraging to read responses to my blog and work lately and I just want to say Thank You to the readers. I'm not being very good about responding. Been a lot going on in my life as of late. I've had to cut some things from my To Do list at this website while I get some stuff done at home and work on my goals.

One of my new goals will be to keep the focus on what has been described for me as 'arrogance and complacency' here. The 'oblique entity' might go dangling a carrot over your nose to keep you from issuing concerns, your misgivings, but you have the freedom of speech. That taken away amounts to censorship.

Know that you have friends here, should you feel someone is trying to direct you toward the exits. You should never feel unwelcome. Over 96% of registered authors are 'black cases'. Strength in numbers. Don't let anyone stand in the way of your dreams. I will try to live by that motto, despite a hand at my back and another directing me in the oppose direction I choose to go.

Brian
 

I'm a former reporter and someone who has dealt with a lifetime of depression, sought treatment for 10 years and has given up. I try to capture the feeling of the ignorance that surrounds this disease...how people will treat you as worthless and/or defective when overwhelmed by the storms of depression, making it difficult to be the normal, model citizen that they need to maintain order in their world.

I introduced the poem as follows in the Plug Page:

"For those who struggle for understanding when in the grips of depression, a little satire to poke fun at the ignorant who try to put a spin on it."

Here is the new poem ("Are You Safe In Your Houses?" ) which surprisingly received an awardicon while I was away this weekend on a camping excursion. Didn't even have it set for ratings yet...Thank you Gabriella for acknowledging this work so quickly! I contemplated whether or not I would venture into another Shining Stars competition with this poem...this will do much nicer!

~ Brian

A pic from our camping trip, too...
...Maddie and Daddy

ID: 1292664   (Rated: ASR) Are You Safe In Your Houses?  Satirical commentary on misunderstandings with depression. by Always & Forever