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Being used for Daily Writing Challenge - if you were there you know what happened! |
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| It is 8:23 am Central time. I spent most of yesterday feeling totally alone and unappreciated. I did not get even one email message on Writing.Com from one blessed soul. I was definitely feeling left out. This morning I wake up, turned on the computer, and poured myself a cup of coffee while I waited for this blasted machine to put itself through the start up paces. As soon as I was able, I logged into my Writing.Com account where I see that I have eight new messages. I am thinking to myself that it must be newletter time again, and at least the newsletters will provide me some entertaining reading. To my surprize there was not one newsletter in my inbox. All the messages were either return comments on the reading that I responded to yesterday, or comments concerning my Writer's Cramp entry that I posted yesterday. What a wonderful feeling of being connected. Today I have to go get a new driver's license, I am suppose to drop off a letter to the bank, and teach a life skills class. Actually all I really want to do is sit here and read and write. My house is so quite and empty, but I am actually enjoying it. My house is also a total disaster, but I am so able to ignore all of my chores. I think I have actually elevated my ability to ignore my household duties to a fine art - unsurpassed in any field of study regarding duties and responsibilities. God knows that I cannot die today, because I don't have time and my house is such a mess. I can remember a time when I kept a fine house. I routinely use to rotate the furniture in every room, change curtains, rearrange the nik-naks, pictures and art on my walls every 3 or 4 months like clock work. It was a certainity, but even that was short lived if measured by my time on this earth. Sadly my children were too young to remember - now all they see is an old woman who wants to spend her days and nights on a computer neglecting her household chores. What a shame. I have four children who know less about me than they do each other, and I was here first. They don't realize that I was a whole and interesting individual in my own right before I ever gave birth to any of them. They see me as boring, and I know this because I have been told by each one of them more times than I can count, "I am boring." I don't tell my children how immature I think they are, or how foolish in most of their pursuits, and I certainly don't try to discourage them from attempting new things - so for the life of me I don't understand why I am so easily dismissed as a superficial, uninteresting person. I have actually reached a point more recently where I have discovered that I don't care what they think and don't think that they actually think at all. I know that they are capable of thinking, I just don't believe that they do. I don't remember being so selfish, and totally self absorbed when I was their age. The fact is I do love my children, it is just at this moment in time I don't like any of them very much. I wonder if adults in my youth felt that way about me? I wonder? Again the haunting feeling of the Patches In Time theme is rearing it's ugly head in this journal. I know people who have pictures of themselves since birth displayed throughout their house. As for me the only picture I every have is the one on my current driver's license. I have never been a big picture person, and I don't know why that is either. Maybe because I spent the majority of my youth in an orphanage where I had no walls on which to display personal mementos. I don't even remember having momentos, or even wanting them. I slept in a huge dorm with a bunch of other girls that I barely knew. I remember the ceiling fans with their big wooden blades that seemed to turn to slow. I remember the big floor to ceiling windows, and the old creeky wooden floors that kept the nuns from sneaking up on us when we were talking instead of sleeping. I remember lights out, and I certainly remember the annoying school bell that Sister Mary Richards and all her sucessors would ring bright and early every single blasted day of the week. I remember wanting to find a way to get my hands on that bell and destory it. I know that the dorm had no air-conditioning, but I honestly don't remember feeling extremely hot, ever. I remember the cold - but not the heat. I wonder why that is, unless it just didn't get that hot that many years ago. Strange. |
| May 18th, 2004 (and late again) May has turned out to be a horrible month for me in regards to real life. And I consider Writing.Com part of my real life too. I delibrately and intentionally joined the Olympic Decathlon Challenge thinking that it would be a writing challenge. Little did I expect that it would be just as much or more of a time management challenge. For almost a year now I have written everyday so I did not see that as a challenge, but wouldn't you know just as soon as I commit myself so publicly to writing everyday that up crops unbelievable personal challenges that are interferring with my best efforts. Before the Olympic Challenge I felt like I had all the time in the world. Now, I am a total wreck. It is not the fault of the Olympic Challenges - it is Murrphy's damn law - absolutely everything that could go wrong has, and the month is only barely half over and I am already crying UNCLE. I feel like such a ridiculous fool so much of the time. I chide myself for thinking that I could ever be any kind of a writer. I read so much wonderful writing here on Writing.Com and I ask myself, "Why isn't more of this stuff in the mainstream?" I copy and paste a lot of information into Microsoft Word to print out to use as reference material when I am preparing any one of the life skill classes that I teach to a adults. I have found it absolutely necessary to run spell and grammar checks. Most of this information is provided by professionals and is found on big corporate websites. To my amazement there are sometimes so many mistakes I wonder if in their professional glory if they forget to run spell and grammar check on their work. That fact is so encouraging and disheartening at the same time. Sometimes I am deluded enough to think that I could actually do better - and then I look back over the last three weeks. Yep, I am definitely deluded. I am sitting here at this very moment typing this journal entry and looking around my house. I need a maid. I have never been content with the results of all my years of living of living on this little piece of dirt hurlin through space, and I ask myself, "Why?" I am a people watcher. I watch all kinds of people going in every possible direction in life. Most of them seem content with their daily routine pursuits. Have they all just settled into a bland kind of complacancy? Don't they struggle, hunger or thirst for more of anything? Why do they all seem so content with their lots in life? And the bigger question then looms large in front of me - Why am I not content? What am I struggling, hungering, and thirsting for? Again, why am I not content? I know people that have worked for the same company, lived in the same city, and lived in the same house for over thirty years. I truly don't know how they do that. Is it that I create my own uncertainities? Is it that I like moving around, not really having any roots? I have lost more friends than I think most people have ever had. I have done this by moving on and passing through this stage or that stage of my life. Ah, now I am back to the Patches In Time theme and theory. I see most other people's life's as connected and joined as in a consistent flowing pattern, and when I compare it to my own life I can see the skips and jumps from one time frame to the other. Stages in my life appear to be disconnected or disassociated with all the others. Why is that I wonder? Will I ever be able to connect the Patches In Time that make up the fabric of my life? I feel like I am a multitude of segements. I got it - I am like a bag of mixed nuts. I am nuts. |
| May 17th, 2004 Today was a relatively good day all things considered. I was up at 5:30 am Central Time as usual. So far so good, and yesterday we had to buy a new coffee pot because between my husband and me we burn one up every year. Well, the coffee pot worked fine but the coffee just was not as hot as we like it. I cannot put the whole pot in the microwave because it has metal on it. I will figure something out even if it means getting another pot – I just absolutely refuse to try to live the life I live without coffee. Perish the thought. Well it even looks like that I will post this journal entry on time – that is a feat. I got invited to join two campfires. Well it turned out to be my turn on both of them TODAY. Am I screaming? You bet I am. One of them is a Hollywood Murder Mystery, and the other is a poem a day thing – even that was good today. My daughter did get arrested today. She called me to give her a ride so she could turn herself in to the detectives. We will see what happens from here. Tough love is tough. I have to teach a budgeting class tomorrow. I am almost finished with my visuals and handouts. Whew! Have not had any time to read today. Did not cook dinner either. My oldest son finally brought back my vacuum that he has been trying to convince me that I misplaced. He had the nerve to tell me that it was here and that I just could not find it. My kids think that I am CRAZY and STUPID. He also said he needed my help. Ha, too late. Seems he got a ticket, actually three of them in New Orleans. I did mention my kids think that I am stupid. Well, he somehow sent the money order to pay the fine to Jefferson Parish instead of Orleans Parish Traffic Court. Incredible. Well, after an hour of phone tag with officials I told him to get his butt in his truck and go to the courthouse in New Orleans. I guess he did because he left. I can’t wait till the new season for Stargate starts in July. I have seen all the reruns. I am a big Law and Order fan also. Well I hope that I get back to the Patches In Time theme that I planned to write about in this journal before real life imposed it’s self on me. I am actually tired this evening. It is a good feeling. I think that part of it is that the Department of Motor Vehicles (Driver’s License place) has agreed to issue me a new legally issued state drivers license number. I hope that helps end some of my problems since all the theft. So tomorrow is a new day. I have to do that class, check out the Writer’s Cramp. I have two more contests to prepare entries for as well as get in two more Writer’s Cramp entries this week. Thank God tomorrow is Tuesday – there is still hope that I will have enough time to get it all done. |
| May 16th, 2004 – Life can suck. Here it is Sunday already. The week ahead looms large in the foreground with the eternally heart winching events that are about to unfold. My daughter will be arrested tomorrow for identity theft and forgery. I have had to press charges because of her continued stealing of my credit cards and checks. Her stealing is mind boggling because we were helping her pay her rent, utility bills, and buy groceries. I told her the last time if she did it again that I would have no choice. I told her that I would have to file charges. I explained in great detail what grief she would encounter if she did not change her wicked ways. Yesterday and today both my husband and I have fielded calls with her wailing and begging for us to drop the charges. This is tough love and it sucks big time. What is up with kids today? I try to imagine what it was that could possibly explain my daughter’s actions. I draw a blank no matter how hard I try to find ways to justify her activities. I ask myself what I could have done to prevent this. When she was here I hid my purse of locked it up. I watched her I thought carefully enough that she would not have any temptation to steal. Evidently she did not care if we had enough money to pay our own bills. I am truly depressed by my daughter’s total disrespect and concerned about her criminal activities. All this is certainly providing more distraction than I want to be bothered with. She is 24 years young, and digging a hole that is going to cave in all around her. The people at the branch bank have been so kind and understanding. I am told that this has been happening quite frequently to many families. The first question that everyone has asked me, “Is she using drugs?” Nope that is not it, which would certainly be an explanation. Then the question becomes, “Does she have a gambling problem?” I assure you that is not it either. It boils down to her thinking that she deserved what she stole. I somehow managed to raise a selfish, uncaring, lying, stealing thief. I can’t imagine having done this to my father. We argued over money. I always thought that I needed more than he ever gave me, but I would never have stolen it from him. I cannot state one specific reason why I would not steal from my father. I just knew that I didn’t, couldn’t have, and can’t imagine what of would have happened if I had ever tried such a thing. My generation was raised with FEAR. I hear the new motto of “NO FEAR” and I look around at everything that is going so wrong and I am beginning to believe that FEAR is a good thing. Well, I hope my daughter discovers FEAR, at least the FEAR of going to jail if she commits a crime. The charges that she is facing are felonies. I can’t help her. As much as I know that she needs to be held responsible and accountable for her actions, my heart aches for all of us. This selfish, thoughtless act of stealing is cutting my heart out, and forever will color all future dealings I have with my daughter. I don’t know how parents deal with it when their children commit unspeakable crimes, but I guess I will find out over the next days, weeks, and months while this tragic and sad situation plays itself out in the courts. Life can really, really suck, sometimes. |
| May 15th, 2004 entered on May 16th, 2004 My brain is in pain from my efforts to catch-up on journal entries for this Olympic Decathlon Writing event. My pain is not caused from the actual writing, it is caused by the free flow of thoughts and emotions that I am allowing myself feel while I express them through my rambling writing. . I have managed to complete an entry into the Bad to the Bone Poetry Contest and my entry into the Coolest Thing I Have Ever Done Contest on time. I don’t know if either of my entries into either contest will win, place, or show, so to speak. I do know that I did my absolute best. Unfortunately, I don’t remember if I participated in The Writer’s Cramp this whole entire last week. Although the Decathlon event did not require my participation in that event last week, the Writer’s Cramps prompts are an inspiration to me. I know that I did get upset and created a forum entitled Petition to Writers Digest Magazine on May 12th. Upset because that glad rag had the nerve to ignore the contributions to writers of all ages on the website known as Writing.Com. The fact that Writing.Com was not on their list was a serious, almost criminal oversight, and certainly makes it appear to me that Writers Digest Magazine is not at all concerned about getting the best information available to their subscribers. I personally visited almost all of the websites on their list that Writers Digest published titled The Best 101 Websites for Writers, and I found all of the websites that I visited paled in comparison to Writing.Com. My views are not bias because of my own personal choice to pay for and maintain a premium membership on Writing.Com. My views are based on the fact that I have looked long and hard for a website that would provide me with the opportunity to show my work, and offer me the opportunity to improve as a writer. There are too many benefits to list on being a member at any level on Writing.Com. The point is I felt compelled to take action. Again, the web technology provided by Writing.Com made it super easy to create the forum in no time at all. The statistics on activities in the forum that are tracked by Writing.Com are absolutely astounding. I have never seen such data readily available at what I will refer to as WARP speed. The point is that is what kept me so busy for the last few days that I did not realize until this morning that I have been seriously neglecting my Writing Decathlon Journal. The Olympic Decathlon Challenge requires that I write 500 words a day as a daily journal entry. I did not realize when I signed up for this event how much time other issues could possibly require, and I certainly forgot about the daily attention that my family requires. I just want to be left alone to write. I find it extremely amusing when my husband brings me food and drink because he has watched as I have spent countless hours at the computer writing, corresponding with other Writing.Com members, and generally totally devoting myself to trying to attain the elusive goal of being a published writer. I look at the number of views that most of my work has on the Writing.Com website and it never fails to amaze me that so many people have taken the time to read my work. The overall feedback that I receive demonstrates that, while not perfect, there are real people who find my work worthy of being read. What a wonderful feeling that is for me. Through my membership on Writing.Com I have had the opportunity to read and learn daily. I have read some really interesting articles about every subject imaginable. I even learn something from what could be called really bad articles. This is proving to be a total refresher course in grammar and punctuation. All of which I just as soon have a editor to do for me, but if any writer wants to get published then any and all work should reflect some level of skill and concern. It is easy to come up with ideas, it is putting time and effort into developing those ideas into presentable work for a reading public. |
| May 14th, 2004 entry made on May 16th, 2004 Life is Complicated Life is much more complicated in today’s environment than I ever remember it to be when I was growing up. I do not believe that this is due to my own personal inability to remember actual events. I remember segregation and desegregation. It was a very emotionally charged issue regardless of what position or what side of the fence that you found yourself. It was also a single black on white or white on black issue. Racism was rampant. I remember the signs that marked public water fountains and restrooms that declared boldly “White’s only”. As a child I use to ask why, but as an adult I had learned why, and it was called ignorance. Today our once huge world is now actually very small in reference to the amount of time that is required to travel from where ever you are on this piece of dirt hurling through space to anywhere else on this little piece of dirt hurling through space. Technological advancements have made it possible for anyone anywhere to correspond in real time with people on any continent of the world. The question that becomes so glaring clear in my mind asks that just because we can, should we? Most will respond with an affirmative, “Of course we should.” Certainly business and governmental communications are vital to world economics, being able to communicate with families and friend’s abroad is worth its weight in gold. What do we all gain by global access to any information? Our basic interaction with people in other countries and other cultures is limited by each individual’s personal experiences. The United States of America is in a war whereby for the first time in the history of our country we attacked first. I do not deny that the horrors of the attack on the Twin Towers in New York on September 11 made all Americans everywhere feel threaten and insecure. It was an unprovoked cowardly act of violence at a magnitude that had never before been witnessed by any living soul. It is unimaginable to conceive of anything that could have provoked such an attack. In the days, weeks, and years now that have passed since the first plane struck the first tower, I wonder how much I really believe about what our government knew about this kind of possibility. I wonder if the current President George W. Bush and his gang of appointed government advisors and officials did not intentionally manipulate our rage as a nation in order to expedite a conspiracy to attack Iraq for it’s coffers of oil? Every thing that I know about the current American government administration that is office today makes me question everything that it does. I know that I am not the only citizen of this country that feels like we were lied to and our rage redirected to justify and attack on Iraq for the personal gain and profit of a few powerful and rich friends of the current administration. I know that I am not the only one that feels that even the news media is bias in their reporting of global events surrounding the current administrations actions. I personally believe that the current administrations use of the United States military, which has demonstrated that it was and is ill equipped to deal with the institution of democracy on a foreign soil, is a criminal offense. Our soldiers are trained to take orders and fight. Now it has become obvious that our United States military’s men and women who have been sent to Iraq and other parts of the world have little or no formal education in the languages, customs, and the culture of the peoples whose country that they were ordered to invade. The United States military is the best trained, best equipped, and best financed military on the face of this piece of dirt and that fact is undisputable. The technology that made rapid deployment of our military personnel has done an astounding job, but to what end? As the supreme military power of the modern world what has our country gained from our invasion of Iraq? |
| Time Fly’s – not only when your having fun but when your being confronted and conflicted by all the everyday battles that hinder the ability to take advantage of the opportunity to enjoy life. The little wonderful bundles of joy that the majority of parents consider their new born babies to be are presenting nearly unheard of trouble and grief that is goes way beyond the type of trouble and grief that my generation caused when we were growing up. I have googled myself nearly crazy trying to find a legitimate reason for some of the horrible crimes that are being caused by the youth of today. There just were not any Columbine type rampages when I was going to school in the 1960’s and 1970’s. I ask myself why? Is it the proliferation of violent video games and television programs that are consciously or subconsciously influencing the developing minds of the youth today? Is if the extraordinary amounts of breaking news stories about all sorts of violence on the radio, television, and Internet that young children have at access to on an hourly basis? Is it the proliferation of movies that bombard our youth with vivid images of death and destruction? There was a time that I would have said that no amount of television viewing, video game playing, and breaking news stories could possibly have this effect, but now I am just not so sure. If everyone over the age of 25 will stop and think back to their youth and ask themselves what type of movies and games did our generation play or even have access, I think that most would be surprised by their own answers. I remember when very young graduating high school seniors were enlisting in military service in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. At that time, as a country our nation and our sons and daughters were extremely naïve. The Vietnam War had been a distant battle in a distant country. As a nation we were not emotionally prepared for the horrors of war and the effect it would have on the generation of men and women being active participants in an ugly undeclared war. Most of us had grown up with John Wayne war movies. The brutal and bloody reality of war was not the main focus of the movies then, it was more focused on an individual’s bravery and how to best serve your country. When my generation walked out of a war movie we were not concerned with the complexities of graphics or even the amount of blood, guts, and body parts that were depicted on the big silver screen. Why? I am beginning to believe that because in the 1960’s and 1970’s, and certainly before that time, movies told a story by portraying believable characters that gave us a feeling of the honor of military service and the physical and emotional challenges that war presented. As a movie going public we were bombarded with heroism and pride. I am disgusted with what I see in the movie theaters and on television today. There is little reference to honor, heroisms, and pride. It is all about how graphically killing another human being can be portrayed. There are coveted awards given to these movies and television shows for the acting and realism. The movies and television shows are barely more than something that is desensitizing our youth to bloody gore, and I personally consider some of them a how-to guide to kill. Youth today know more about all types of assault weapons, and are just about given a practical guide of where and how to find such weapons on the streets of any major metropolitan area. Am I the only one that feels like our youth and our nation is going morally bankrupt? |
| May 12th, 2004 entry actually done on May 12th, 2004 Yea! Go me! Oh, how I do love Writing.Com. I have been extremely stressed today by the fact that Writer’s Digest did not include Writing.Com on their list of The Best 101 Websites for Writer’s. Writer’s Digest’s blatant omission of this web site on their list, in my humble opinion, is just short of being criminal. Who is running the show over there? Either way I put up my first forum. Here again, it was very simple and the response has been over whelming. As of this writing my little forum has had over 115 views. I would have thought that more people would post their letters in the forum, but so far I have seven posted and I have not tried to post my own. So that makes the emails actually written and sent to Writer’s Digest eight. I am sure that there are a lot more. During the process of trying to catch-up on my daily entries into the Olympic Decathlon I actually prepared a wonderful supper for my family in a slow cooker early this morning. This evening I get a phone call from my husband and son that they are both working late. What is it they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men? I am feeling some what exhausted. The computer screen is beginning to look a little fuzzy. I have been on my home away from home all day. My poor old body is numb from the waist down. This folks is just not a Good Thing. I actually received a friendship badge from Shaara. She is a very kind and forgiving soul. I actually sent her a serious review, which I don’t normally do, and I thought her words were ordered in such a way that English was not her first language. Well as it turns out she is a third generation Californian. Shaara has a well-developed sense of humor obviously because instead of getting all upset over my wrong assumption she sent me a friendship badge with a very nice note. Badges are not free or cheap, and rightfully so, as the badges are amazing pieces of artwork. Another Writing.Com member, Gailey, sent me 5000 gift points to help with the cost of sponsoring my petition to Writer’s Digest. The funny thing is that I didn’t sponsor it. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know it was being sponsored until Gailey mentioned it to me. Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather, and then I returned Gailey’s 5000 gift points and added 15,000 to it and asked her to sponsor a Letter to Writer’s Digest Contest. I would be willing to bet that she will be as bowled over as I was when she gets that email. Well today has been a very productive day except all of my production has been letter writing, not creative writing. Maybe tomorrow will be better. I still need to go check out the prompt for The Writer’s Cramp. Hopefully I will be able to find a muse, any muse to assist me. Whoever is reading these journal entries I want you know that it is very hard not to use all that MLtag writing stuff I spent weeks learning. I am trying to follow the rules. The rules say that we can’t use the MLtag stuff, so just for your information – “Yes, I am whining.” Now, I think that I will go enter the “Coolest thing I have ever done” contest. Why? Because it is a requirement of the Olympic Decathlon, that is why. |
| May 11th, 2004 entry made on May 12th, 2004 Okay, I now have my fresh cup of steaming hot coffee, and I have lit yet another cigarette. I will take several deep breaths, try to relax, and make a more productive entry to follow the last entry into this journal. Wish me luck! To further assist me in my efforts to do a two-day catch-up job with these journal entries I decided it was definitely time to whip out the slow cooker, especially after it cost me $54.00 for last nights supper at a local, greasy spoon type, take-out bar-b-que establishment. Now, don’t get me wrong, the food is really, really good, but my brood just eats way too much, as evidenced by the cost of the quantity previously mentioned. Today’s menu consist of an Easy Pork Loin Dinner recipe: 2- pork loins cut into 1-inch slices 2- large onions sliced 3- medium potatoes sliced, skin on One (1)- can cream of celery soup One half (1/2) cup of hot water And seasoning to taste: black and white pepper, powdered garlic, and other herbs (Optional: a can or two of sliced mushrooms layered between the potatoes and pork meat, fresh mushrooms do well too if you happen to have them on hand.) Layer all ingredients in the slow cooker starting with the onion slices, then potato slices, and then the sliced pork loins. Season to taste. Mix the cream of celery soup (10 1/2 ounces) with ½ cup of hot water. Mix soup and water well. Pour soup mixture over the ingredients in the slow cooker. Set slow cooker on high for about 2 hours, and then re-set on low for 4 to 6 more hours. Do not stir or lift the slow cooker lid for any reason. Just trust me on this, okay? If you’re in a really big hurry you may used a pre-mixed seasoning blend. It is possible to use the seasoning blend that come prepackaged in those McCormick Bag’n Season cook in a plastic bag in the oven type of stuff. I have, it is good, but it adds a little more to the food budget. There is no reason to feel bad about the small additional expense of using the Bag’n Season premixed spices compared to the time you save, as well as the money you save not using your big oven and heating up the house which would then require your air conditioner to work even harder. Then serve over rice or pasta. Baby carrots and green beans make nice additional side items to serve with this Easy Pork Dinner. It is possible to use other types and cuts of meat in this recipe. It just so happens that my husband prefers pork loin, but pork chops work well, as does chicken, Oh, be sure to save the cooking bags, you can certainly use the bags at another time with your own spice blend. Now, that I have tonight’s supper taken care of I have most of the day left to do just exactly what I want to do. I have an article in my portfolio called, “What’s for Dinner?” If you are the least bit unsure about how practical a slow cooker is, or if investing in a slow cooker is a good idea, then I can only suggest that you take some of your precious time to read my article as it just might help you understand why I am saying what I am saying. No, I do not have any stock in any of the company’s that make slow cookers, but I certainly wish I did. Now, I am finished with the catch-up part of my Decathlon journal entries, now I just need to enter today’s entry and I will be back on track. |
| May 10th, 2004 entry made on May 12th, 2004 Geeezzzzz! I am certainly a dollar short and more than a day late with this entry. Isn’t it amazing how many real life daily challenges interfere with how I actually want to spend my time? I cannot believe that I allowed myself to get two days behind in my journal entries for the Writing Decathlon Olympic Challenge. To begin with I have been forced to run back and forth to a Notary’s office to get fraud documents notarized for at least six different and separate national businesses all because I was a victim of identity theft and fraud. I have had to fax 10 page copies of police reports and bank fraud letters to entirely too many places. I have spent almost a hundred dollars between notary’s, copies, and postage. I am furious because I am the VICTIM. The thief has been identified, interviewed by the police, and confessed. Yet, the thief has still not been arrested. It is my name and personal information that is now listed in all these national reporting agencies that prevent a person from writing a check. I have done nothing wrong, except become a victim to a crime. I would have been prevented from opening another checking account if I had chosen not to open the new account with my current bank because of the theft. What a crock! I had over-draft protection on my checking account that would prevent me from bouncing a check in the event I made a mistake in addition and subtraction in my check register. Well, guess what? The bank did not notify me until my savings account was empty, then the bank finally bounced one of the stolen checks that required them to contact me. This is the first time in my life that I was glad that I did not have more money, and isn’t that a crazy thing to have to be glad about. If I would have had more money then the thief would have stolen more money. When Wal-Mart sent the stolen though bounce check through my account the second time it was returned to them clearly marked lost or stolen. Now, you would think that would mean something to them? Well, that fact did not stop them from reporting me to every national bad check reporting agency on the face of this planet, and they have been calling wanting to know when I was going to clear this matter up. The merchants that are trying to blame the victim are repeatedly victimizing me. I think this is incredibly stupid way to conduct business. I have never liked Wal-Mart to begin with, as their big money strong-arm tactics only destroy a local economy. I am sure that many of you are wondering how Wal-Mart can destroy a local economy. Well then you need to be better read on current events. Wal-Mart is not doing a community a favor by building one of their stores in your city or town. They use lost leader tactics to draw massive crowds of people into their stores, then when they have sufficiently eliminated and destroyed local and long establish businesses in your town or city then their prices go up, usually higher than the smaller, local stores charged for the same merchandise. Wal-Mart is a for profit business that is redefining the meaning of corporate greed. Oh, you think Wal-Mart is helping your community by providing employment. Guess again. Most all of their jobs are minimum wage jobs that have no benefits or real hope for advancement. They have already been sued for their tactics of firing long time upper management employees just before an upper management employee’s retirement benefits would have been earned. Wal-Mart has been caught red-handed at destroying evidence in lawsuits pertaining to accidents on their property caused by their stores negligence. They deliberately relocate personnel to avoid their giving testimony. Wal-Mart moves into a community and takes full legal advantage of tax-credits; legal tax credits that are meant to help local community based businesses get established by providing tax breaks. How much of Wal-Mart stores profits are actually returned to the economy of your city or town? The answer is: none. Zip, zilch, nada, zero profits from your local Wal-Mart’s are returned to your community. And you think all that charitable giving to local community organizations is a good thing. It is tax deductible for Wal-Mart, and just a smoke screen to hide their real intentions. I need to go get another cup of coffee, adjust my attitude, light a cigarette, and ponder long and hard about how to get even with these corporate raiders. Oh, and I know that I am way over the daily word count. And for your information I could have kept going. |
| May 9th, 2004 Oh, what a tangled web we weave when trying to swim in deep, dark waters of an Olympic Challenge. Oh, I am having more fun than I think most people realize. I have read entries into several of the Olympic challenge events that are so far off base that it proves that it pays to sit back and observe the goings on until one has a real grasp on what it actually expected. The poor struggling authors that are trying so hard not to get behind in meeting the presented challenges are actually doing double and triple work. While I understand in theory the need to be first out of the gate, and the need to want a commanding lead in this Writing Olympic Decathlon event, I cannot ignore the story of the tortoise and the hare. Speed and haste does not always win a race. I am very much like the tortoise in that children’s story. Slow and steady suits me just fine. Better to do it right the first time than need the time to have to do it all over again. Personally I do work much better under stress, which adds a delibrate, and blindingly single mindedness to my efforts. The real Olympic Challenge here is navigating the rules of the game. I am not normally a rule follower. I deliberately and methodically seek ways in which to circumvent most rules. I have proven that to myself time and time again. Ah, but I have learned that to break or bend the rules it is very wise to have a basic grasp of the rules purpose and intentions. I always like to argue that while my interpretation of the rules may appear somewhat skewed, my interpretation is always within the spirit of the rules. (It is a if you can't baffle them with brillance then baffle them with bulls*** type of argument, but occasionally it has worked for me.) Now I must do as my conscience dictates and notify some of the other contestants who, like the rabbit, thought that they had a commanding lead, when actually they don’t. I have said from the beginning that the real challenge of this event was to try to follow the rules. Actually, I told someone today that whole event should have been called “Just Try To Follow The Rules Writing Decathlon Challenge”. Rule makers probably will not understand the humor in this title, but my life long observation is that rule makers generally are trying to replace chaos with some sort of order. Do rule makes understand the enormous truth in Murphy’s Law? Do rule makers of this world understand that rules create most of the chaos that exist on the face of this planet? Oh, you want to disagree with me about rules creating chaos, do you? Then I suggest for your reading pleasure, and as an attempt to prove my point that you read the Tax Code that is set up by the Internal Revenue Department of the United States of America -- my point exactly. Rules create chaos. Now with joy in my heart I get to notify some of the other Olympic contestants about the prompt for the Bad to the Bone challenge which as I understand it, will be posted later today or this evening, and I get to appear to be a Good Samaritan. It is certainly a win / win situation. So I must thank those who are enabling me to appear in such a good light – Thank you Rule Makers of the World. |
| May 8th, 2004 Entered on May 9th, 2004 Real life has again interfered with my hope to do the 500 words a day Writing Decathlon Challenge. I will not let that be the end to my efforts. The real problem is that weekends do not have as much of a routine as the rest of any given week. Monday through Friday everybody else in this household either goes to work or school. With everybody out of the house by 7:00 am every morning I usually spend all morning devoted to reading and writing. Weekends present a real challenge just to find any time to do the things that I want to do. Today is Sunday, May 9th, 2004. It is also Mother’s Day. Big whoop-tee-do. Mother’s Day is just another one of those nationally celebrated holidays that only prove to me how much my life sucks compared to everybody else’s in my view. My personal life drama is easier to ignore on any other typical day of the year. It is my sincere hope that everyone else has happy memories on National holidays. I don’t think that misery loves company. I know that I don’t wish for anyone to have to live through as much pain and grief as I do on any given day. Many people believe that depression can cause a person to feel as I do. Well, when an individual has real grief, there is no reason to celebrate, and chemical imbalance in a person’s brain is not the only cause for depression. Sometimes a person is depressed because there are real reasons to be depressed. Sometimes life just sucks, and that is a fact. I am very good at taking very sad situations and turning them into little pots of gold. I enjoy making proverbial lemonade out of real life situations, especially when life only gives me lemons with which to make something. Yep, I am very good at making lemonade. I spent twelve years in therapy for doctors and counselors to tell me that I had a highly developed and evolved defense mechanism. Duh! All that time in therapy still provided no real solutions. All these smart, educated people saw their purpose in life was to make me feel better about mine. Damn the torpedoes – lets all make merry while the ship sinks into the dark, cold ocean depths and try to find a way to feel good about it. I personally think that real life solutions are better than this touchy, feel good kind of psychological dribble. I am sick to death of the inappropriate application of the theory that there is no personal blame or responsibility that an individual is now allowed to attach to a given event. I intentional, and with full culpability married a man that turned out to be less than marriage material. I proceeded to bear four children. I allowed myself to be his victim. I was there crying and sniffling as I watched him mold the children into his own image. Why should I now be shocked that the children do not treat me any better than they observed their own father treat me? I have proven to myself, beyond a shadow of a doubt that children learn what they live. How does that poem go—If a child lives with hate-- then a child learns to hate. If a child lives with a thief—then a child learns to steal. If a child lives with anger—then a child learns to be angry. Okay, so I have twisted some of the words of the poem, but certainly not the lessons that the poem intended to teach. Either way my life sucks and it is my job to figure out how to straighten out the mess I have made of it. |
| I spent most of the day today putting out fires - I had to fax copies of the police reports and bank fraud affidavita to three different companies: SCAN, Capital One, and First Premire, of course the Bank wants theirs mailed - did that! And I wrote one of the nastiest letters I have ever written, here it is: The Critic (changed name and address to protect the victim) MY Street City, State and Zip Capital Acquisitions and Management Company P. O. Box 5087 Rockford, Illinois 61125-5087 May 7th, 2004 To Whom It May Concern: I received a letter that claims you purchased an account that showed me as owing money. I regret to inform you that you made a very bad investment. In the same old public or private records that possibly indicate that I may have owed money on an account(s) that is now at least 15 years old, if not older, your legal department should be able to find the lawful and legal disposition of said claims. I am appalled by your company’s attempts to resurrect a purported debt that has been handled many years ago. I personally consider your company’s attempt to collect, and your company’s method of collection a form of extortion. I have received several phone calls on several different occasions from a male individual that has tried to verbally strong arm me into believing that I owe your company, Capital Acquisitions and Management Company, money. I know that I do not owe your company money, and I know for a fact that any and all accounts were legally and lawfully disposed of according to law. There exist a public record of this fact. I inform you now that this is not a valid debt regardless of how your company claims that it was acquired. I can only suggest that your company do the necessary research and verify the facts before attempting any further collection. Just drafting a letter on paper with a company logo, mailing that same letter which makes claims that an individual owes Capital Acquisitions and Management is insufficient evidence of any debt. Also just claiming that you acquired a debt from another source is not evidence that a real debt existed. Sincerely, NOT going to be a victim anymore enclosure Yep, I left the name of the company in this letter. I think that the letter demonstrates exactly what kind of day I have had today since I started writing at 4:30 am central time (or as Pita might say "dark thirty"). I am certain that I will share their further attempts at what in my opinion is extortion. Even if the debts had not been legally taken care of I am absolutely sure that there is a perscriptive period of time. The guy tried to convience me that I just slipped through the cracks. I am way to fat to slip through any cracks anywhere. Who here believes that they would wait 15 to 20 years to ask for their money? |
| May 6th, 2004 Don't be a victim of crime; the victim becomes the criminal. Yep, my driver's license was stolen, checks from two different checking accounts were stolen, and the thief had a field day. My husband and I are out thousands of dollars because the majority of the checks cleared the bank before I noticed it. Why did I not notice it earlier? I sit at home on this computer everyday writing, not spending money, and thinking the money that we have in the bank is safe. Let me assure you identity theft is BIG BUSINESS. We have several automatic deposits going into the two accounts that had checks stolen. We cannot close those accounts until the entities that are making the deposits switch it to my new account, and that takes between six to eight weeks. I can't write a check anywhere because all the Telecheck and Scan, and God only knows who else has literally lock me out of this nation wide system for reporting bad checks. Never mind that my checks did not bounce, but some were returned lost or stolen. Evidently merchants (we are talking Wal-Mart) don't care why the check was returned. The day I noticed the problem with the account I went directly to Wal-Mart when I completed the Banks paperwork. There I was treated like I was trying to pull a fast one. I asked them not to accept any checks with my name on them. I gave them the letter from the Bank that I was told would prove that my checks had been stolen and I was a victim of fraud. A lady from the accounting department said as long as a person had valid identification that Wal-Mart would accept the checks. When I told the police dectective how I had been treated and what I was told he said, "That is the Wal-Mart way. They are not easy to deal with." Now my thoughts on this are the people who work at Wal-Mart live in this town, or are they importing aliens from Mars. Either way, if you are a victim then you are also a suspect. Geeezzzzzzz, and I sit home and mind my own business to get this kind of grief. Oh, the police have caught the individual, and she has addmitted to stealing the checks, forging my name, and stealing my driver's license. Her name is not in any Telecheck system or Scan. Just mine and my husbands. There is another company that looked up bad debts from over 15 years ago that were taken care of finally in a divorce settlement. Now they are trying to reinvent the wheel by just ignoring the legal property settlement and coming after me. Geeezzzzz, get in line. I have an adjustable rate mortgage and I tried to find out if there were any fees to lock it in and make it a fixed rate mortgage. I did not know that I would be causing trouble just asking if there were any costs involved to switch it from adjustable to fixed. I think that I have just about decided to get a motor home and sell this house. I don't need a permanent address. If these idiots cannot find me then they can't cause me any grief. Now I can get satalite television, and a pre-paid cell phone. My son who is going to Iraq next month can email me. The others are on their on. I am going to do a disappearing act. I don't need a permanant address to be on Writing.Com Watch and see if I don't manage to drop off the face of the earth. Mercenaries make good money, and I am certainly in the mood to pass my grief along. God I hope tomorrow is better... because there is more but I am sure I am over the 500 word count for the day. And this entry has nothing to do with anything that I wanted it to do with. Patches in Time will just have to wait for tomorrow. |
| May 5th, 2004 Patches of Time ~~ I guess I will let this be my working title on this little quest of mine. If this reads a little sing-song-ee then I have to ask for your patience and understanding, and I will explain you see. I have been writing a very intense poem for the Writer’s Cramp today. In May 4th entry in this Writing Decathlon Journal I stumbled across a theme that I intend to use. Interestingly enough the prompt for the Writer’s Cramp today made me write a dreary poem that I called, “A Life Reduced to Forty Lines of Poetry”. It is in my portfolio in the folder where I am stashing my daily entries into the Writer’s Cramp. As it turns out, that miserable little forty line poem is almost an outline that I could use for this Patches of Time biography journal entry. I don’t know why I am doing this to myself. My life has not been one of any notable travels, accomplishments, or successes. I think that it has been a rather ordinary life, filled with ordinary events; there is probably more sadness and anguish than I would hope is actually typical of an ordinary life. I do have one character trait or flaw that I consider outstanding, and that is my will to survive what ever this life throws my way. Too many counselors, social workers, lawyers, and most people that have a clue of what my life has been about has encouraged me to write a book. Then again, I have heard that someone has told everybody that they should write a book at one time or another during the course of his or her existence. So, there again is the contradiction of my own life; typical or not it is the only one that I have lived to date that I can recall. I have no plans to go super spiritual and talk about reincarnation. I just entered this here little Writing Decathlon and I have been told to write what I know. Well, I know my life better than anyone else. I just have to decide the order in which to write it now. So if anyone is reading this and wants to impart any of their views about which order to write my story I would certainly appreciate it. My earliest memories are like snap shots of unconnected time. I have no memories of my own mother, but I do remember who told me what about her. I hope that if my mother realized that she was dieing that she did not realize how betrayed her children would be by her own family. Evidently she had no long term, close friends. I have memories of the secretary that worked for The Casey Insurance Agency, which is the company that my mother started and owned. My father actually worked for her. I know that I envision that I am like my mother. She must have been strong and brave. I was born in 1953; my father had decided not to stay in the United States Air Force, which I think he ended up regretting the rest of his life. I have been told that my mother owned the house on Bon Air Circle in Jackson, TN. Seems she bought a home before she married my daddy. I don’t think that typical, traditional women in the 1950’s generally did that. I have a handful of pictures of her in hip boots with a string of fish that any man would be proud to bring home today. Therefore in my mind I picture my mother was an avid outdoors type woman; again, another uncommon trait for women in the 1950’s. I was told that my father loved my mother very much and her death basically destroyed him. I have vivid memories of a maid named Rowhealya. I am not certain about the spelling of her name, all I know is that she was the only woman I remember that took care of us. Daddy didn’t stay home much. Due to word count limits I am going to stop and pick this up again tomorrow. |
| May 4th, 2004 Well, last night at 11:00 pm central standard time I was sound asleep. This is important due to the fact that I wanted to and intended to participate in the Scavenger Hunt that is one of 10 Writing Decathlon events. The Scavenger Hunt was scheduled to start at 11:00 pm Writing.Com time, and I am still not sure what time that is. The point is I missed it. Yesterday also turned out to be a reading day. It is not a truly independent choice for me – reading days just happen. So I also did not get my 500 Writing Decathlon words written and entered into this journal. I have not yet been able to work on the Short Story Slam event topic; nor have I worked on the Writer’s Cramp prompt. The reason I am writing about this is because I woke up this morning with 2 simple choices: Get busy and make up the work that I did not get to yesterday, or shuck it all, and quit. Well, you are reading this because I decided to get busy and make up my work. It is too late for the Scavenger Hunt, but there are still 9 other events yet to come. With any luck I should be able to get something written for the Writer’s Cramp and the Short Story Slam. Today is going to be filled with real life distractions. I can only do the best that I can do. I am not racing against any one particular field of other participants. I entered the Writing Decathlon for myself, and myself only. Actually, I kind of consider this like a training session for the up and coming NanoWriMo Challenge coming in September, which requires 50,000 words in a month. Last year I failed miserably, but last year was the first year I had ever heard of NanoWriMo, so I have not beat myself up to badly about my own lack of endurance. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, yet here I am early in the year planning on entering that contest again. What a glutton for punishment I am. As I said in the May 3rd entry that I posted late, yesterday was a reading day. I discovered some amazing journals written by some even more amazing people on Writing.Com. The one thing that I realized in the course of my reading is that the people who have written these journals have an uncanny ability to stick to something that they have started. I have found that my life cannot be compared to a whole, seamless, woven, intertwining thread that produces a finished blanket. No, I view my life in segments. Chopped up, chewed up fragments that end up not being a complete anything. Maybe I am more like a quilt, a collection of many different kinds of material, gathered over a random period of time, and sewn together by many different types and colors of thread. I think that the term for that kind of quilt is “A Crazy Quilt”, and that description is as accurate a description of my time on this little piece of dirt as any that I can think of. And now, after only 4 days of entries, I think that I may have just stumbled across a theme or direction for this journal to take. No specific title yet, but definitely a theme. I will start putting the pieces in place with words replacing thread; the fragmented sections of my life can be recreated in paragraph form. The daily entries will be the building blocks for the crazy quilt of my life. Oh yes, I think that I have found a theme. |
| Note to self: Get over it, and pick up where you left off. You have never been a quitter, don't start now. It is 6:00 am May 4th, 2004 Yesterday turned out to be a reading day. I never know when that is going to happen, but reading is ever bit as important as writing, at least to me it is. I am serious, I read all blasted day. Nearly read myself blind... I don't stop until I can no longer see the words on the page or screen. Just like it is said that you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince, well you have to read a lot to keep the faith in your own ability to write as far as I am concerned. I read things that inspire me. I read things that make me aspire to be a better writer. I read things that are so badly written, and I know that I could have done such a better job that the reading gives me hope that if that writer can get published -- surely I can! I read to experience new emotions, discover new and developing attitudes about subjects that I have never had an opportunity to face myself. I am horrified at the number of people who cannot read, and more horrified at the number of people who don't see reading as a basic fundamental necessity of living. If I don't know how to do something - I can research it by reading about it. I have taught myself more things than teachers have taught me, but I would have never been able to learn if I had not been taught to read. I have not had a life time of opportunities to travel all over the world. I have been to Costa Rico, and that was a 21 day emersion program to earn language credits so I could graduate with a Bachalor of General Studies. I did not have a pot of money to spend on my trip to Costa Rico. I walked more and further in those 21 days than I have in 30 years. Why? I could not speak the language to be able to tell a taxi driver where I wanted to go. Seriously. Now, about the emersion language thing, by time I got back I barely spoke Spanish or English. My poor mind was confused. The best way I can explain it is "They talk backwards." Their sentence structure is not set up like ours. The funny thing is I can read Spanish much better than I can speak it, and everybody has a unique speaking voice so forget about talking to me in Spanish except for common, much used pharses... For example: I can ask where is the bathroom in 10 different languages. I can ask for coffee in 12 languages. Now all of you do realize that if you drink coffee, the bathroom location is a major concern. You should be laughing or at least smiling at this point. Let me remind you that I don't have to understand a particular language to understand the answer to either of the two previous questions. Everybody can point or lead you to the correct location, and coffee is a request that by body language a moron will know you need cream and sugar, but I usually carry my own to speed up the process of getting the coffee to my mouth. Now I also can ask "How much?" in a couple of languages, but I quit worrying about that question when I realize two very important things: 1) I never have any money in any country's currency so I can't afford to buy any thing, 2) I would have to learn to understand all the possible replies, there is no pointing when the answer is not one univeral answer. All of writing, and thoughts stem from the ability to read. I cannot and have not ever put all my thoughts about the importance of having the abilty to read in any one central locating. Since there is a daily word limit with this project I probably will not get most of them in this entry either. I do know that I often wonder what my life would have been like if I would have had the Internet available to me as a child, like most children in America have today. The reading and Internet thoughts draws me to form other conclusions about the latest issues with the schools and all the testing that they are doing for placement and advancement of young students. How many generations of people were taught, almost exclusively, the basic reading, writing and arithmatic method? Have we faired so badly over the last few generations that it has been discovered that it is necessary to abandon and restructure proven learning models? |
| MY-2 I could write about all the writing I did yesterday. I entered the Writer’s Cramp in the morning, and when the new prompt was available I got very busy writing about Tulip’s as my Muse for my second entry to the Writer’s Cramp in the afternoon. I wrote my first book entry for the Olympic Decathlon. I felt the fire yesterday of the hot burning flames that fuel my desire to write. And I must mention that I took third place in the Whine and Cheese contest held by “Fireant is havin fun”. I am certainly proud of that win, as there was lots of excellent competition. I spent some time yesterday preparing a presentation on “Budgeting”. Not a pie in the sky type of presentation for people who have too much money and don’t know what to do with it. This is a budgeting presentation for people who have no money. The people on food stamps and welfare, the single mothers, and under-employed that are trying to find a way to survive in President Bush’s economy that serves the wealthy. There are a couple of advantages most of these women have: a high school diploma, youth, good health, and sheer determination. This presentation is for the people who see that the almighty dollar is not as mighty as it once was. Here in the trenches of life it is very easy to feel defeated before you even get a chance to get started. These young mothers don’t have families that have bought them shiny new cars as a high school graduation present. They never made plans to attend college. Their jobs at Wal-Mart amount to indentured servitude. Life is tough. These women don’t want handouts. They want an honest, workable plan to acquire the American Dream before their health, spirit, and endurance levels wear thin from years of unprofitable toil. It is unrealistic for them to think that a knight in shinning armor is going to swoop down and marry them. Their prince came once, and left them to raise a child alone. Some have tried more than one prince, only to discover that these princes are cut from the same cloth. I spent a few hours at Books-A-Million. Has anyone else noticed how many Bush-bashing books are on the market? There are an equal number of books that praise Bush and the Dynasty that his family has established in this country. What a sham! Colin Powell and that Rice woman are two very high placed African Americans in the Bush White House, does anybody else think that Bush is playing the race card for all it is worth? I have not yet decided if the authors of all these books are really trying to serve the greater good, or make a quick buck off of a very hot topic. I do know that the majority of Americans don’t really vote anymore. There are tons of excuses. As for myself, I have plenty of opinions, and we all know that opinions are like belly buttons – we all have one. Will someone explain to me why we still need the Electoral College? My opinion is that it provides the current administration with fewer people to bribe, twist around their little finger, or intimidate. Am I the only one that thinks that it was no accident that Jed Bush was the governor of the State that seemed to cast the deciding vote in his brother George W. Bush’s bid for President? I will now go drown my sorrows in coffee and donuts, and hopefully find myself in a much more literary mood for literary sake tomorrow. |
| Today is the first day of May. It is also the first day of this Writing Olympic Decathlon that I have entered into on Writing.Com. The Daily Writing Challenge and the relationship with the Writing Olympic Decathlon confuse me. According to the mail in my Writing.Com mailbox I am entered into both the Olympic Decathlon and the Daily Writing Challenge Group. So, for today’s first entry into the Olympic Decathlon it is my understanding that I need to write 500 words a day. The 500 words are actually what are required of the Daily Writing Challenge referred to as “Limbo 2”. I am beginning to believe that this is much more than a daily writing challenge. It appears to me to be an exercise in following rules. Or more specifically, in my particular case, an exercise in deciphering and interpreting rules. So you can have a better understanding of why the rules present such a challenge, let me explain: I don’t normally follow rules. I have been told repeatedly throughout my life that I must live by an unwritten and unspoken code whereby I think that rules are just a personal invitation for me to see how many times and in how many ways I can break them. My objective, or my intentions in joining the Olympic Decathlon, and my subsequent accidental joining of the Daily Writing Challenge is not to break the rules. I am actually trying to understand, apply, and abide by the rules. Do I think I have a chance at succeeding in this rule challenge? I have absolutely no clue. I can write 500 words a day. I am even willing to pad my daily decathlon entries with a few extra words just for sake of having a word count safety net. At this point I am having some very serious concerns about the rule writers of the Olympic Decathlon and the Daily Writing Challenge, especially when they join together as a group, and present challenges such as this to entice innocent, unsuspecting victims, such as myself, to dare try to navigate a path through this narrowly defined, and trap riddled equation that they have presented as a type of personal fun writing contest. How deceitful and underhanded. They have even managed to bring math into a writing challenge. I have discovered that usually and typically the people who are good at English are not very good at math, and vice versa. So, what I have stumbled across here is something straight out of one of my worse old college day’s nightmares: An English writing assignment with mathematical rules. As this journal for the Olympic Decathlon progresses I may resort to poetic spells to cast upon the rule makers of the world, especially those responsible for providing the bait that lured me into this month of May hell that I am embarking on with an enormous sense of trepidation. I may venture into an occasional short story to relieve the anguish created by my tormenters. You know, the rule makers of this challenge; the rule makers that I now view as my very own personal nemesis. They have names and identities that I deliberately will not mention here so as not to have you fall prey to the same troublesome fate to which I have bound myself to for this month of May. Surely I have been cursed for pursuing the life of a writer’s lust. A Writer’s Lust A writer’s eternal lust for words On a page once written Is liken to being thrice bitten An ever lonely, isolated pursuit Conquest unrequited Without a Publisher’s contract Just found stacks of pages Thrown aside by family and friends Who, yet to read the draw of words In the writer’s own blood, like ink from a pen The multitude of keystrokes then append A writer’s eternal lust, yet to comprehend As if by a cancer possessed, eaten alive from inside Evidenced by the pages begging to be read Before the author is found dead |
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