No one is moving away from the free food table any time soon
There are few seats and the cement ledges aren’t comfortable
I flirt with a woman who is concerned about her curly hair
I tell her she looks beautiful – she smiles – she doesn’t hear that enough

We decide to cross Jefferson Street and go into the temple to get a good seat
We decide to cross Jefferson Street and go into the temple to get out of the sun

We are stopped by a chubby young cop who explains there has been a bomb threat
He postures like John Wayne and tries to wrest the most out of his badge and uniform
No one is buying- but everyone is listening – he relishes the audience – he is so LA

You gotta go around he says You gotta enter on Pico – this is where the event is.
(By event he means this is where the caller said the bomb was hidden)

Brave and crazy – the mass of humanity moves toward Pico – impervious to the threat
We are AMERICANS and these are our kids and you won’t ruin their special day

Did no one learn anything from Boston?
Did we forget in one short month what was at stake?

We move as one under the California sun – the police woman politely lifting the caution tape
We have to get into the temple before all of the good seats are taken

I wear a flimsy black bag on my shoulder – no one checks it
NO ONE CHECKS IT
I hold my coveted ticket out for scrutiny – no one checks it
NO ONE CHECKS IT

They simply herd us into the storied theater with the magnificent chandelier
We settle in and prepare for the speeches and the processions

Somewhere – someone is waiting for CNN coverage – hoping for attention
Somewhere – someone is wringing his hands – staring at the phone on the kitchen table

We walk and we sit politely together because we are AMERICANS and these are our kids

Yeah.

So I’ve just been persistently trying to run from myself, but “myself” isn’t all that there really is. In fact, it’s the constructed voices & identities in my head which terrify me, mostly because it’s almost impossible to differentiate these false voices from my own true voice. Overwhelmingly difficult.

They sound like me, because I have become so unfamiliar with me. That’s the challenge. Part of me really wants to take on this challenge, because honestly, what else is more important? But it’s so hard to do this without support from others… K has been there for me, yes, but one person cannot be enough because then I start to worry that I’m “taxing” him or just being a bore… I so wish WH & TJ could still be available for me to talk with… I guess that’s why I tried to make J into more that what she is capable of being… I’m that desperate for human contact.

Speaking of physical contact, i haven’t even written about the fact that the technical virginity (TV – yes, really) is officially a thing of the past, as of a month ago… it wasn’t poetic or painless or meaningful. Haha. But that was fine by me. I wish he’d been a bit more patient, but he was patient enough I suppose. Mostly, I wish he wasn’t married because that’s a crappy “first” memory, but considering the person that I am, it’s wholly unsurprising, eh Actually, there’s the poetry right there!

I so want to have more of that kind of intimacy, but as much as he’s someone I am relatively comfortable with & he’s a decent lover, it can’t ever become spectacular with him because our feelings aren’t involved, beyond a comfortable friendship & affection. I want the chance to explore more… i want a chance for mindblowing orgasms which aren’t just based on the physical satisfaction, but on an emotional connection of two people who are so deeply into each other that their bodies just explode in bliss.

Does that exist, beyond the pages of romance novels & films? I think it does, but I haven’t a clue where to find it…

In related news, after having sex with the married man (MM? hah) I finally came to terms with the fact that I have romantic feelings for F, the friend who propositioned me for a FWB-type rendezvous last year. But he had chickened out and I had chickened out… and I had all this pent-up anger and frustration at him which I couldn’t seem to identify or reconcile with… Until the TV was a done deal, I guess it served as a mental block for the fact that I’ve fallen for F and that I see him as someone I could build something lasting with…

So what did I do. I tried to ask him out for dinner and he postponed so many times that I told myself to just accept there was no point confessing anything. I knew he wasn’t feeling it. But when we met up, I was overcome by the fact that I was finally having these feelings for someone again, after a year (or more). It was… humanising? You know what I mean. I felt like the old Me again, which is scary but also comforting. I wanted him so much. I sat through dinner pretending to just have a normal conversation. I could see it in his eyes that he wasn’t feeling anything for me. It killed me. He was just tired from too much work and looking for company over drinks and dinner to unwind. That was all. But I was looking into his eyes and seeing so much beauty there, though it wasn’t for me.

So I told him. He wasn’t surprised, which sucked, but it was the way he immediately moved to apologise that really hurt. Then he progressively made it worse by offering to help me in any way that he could…. Jeez. We aren’t on the same page. I imagined it. We have some things in common but that’s that. I had dreamed up a world for us that he wasn’t interested in. It happens. I’ve been on both sides of this game before, so it’s not unfamiliar. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been on this side…

F is not the reason for my suicidal thoughts. One person or one thing or even one aspect of this messed up system could possibly be strong enough to overcome me. But the cumulative frustration is really getting overwhelming.

I need human contact. What do I do about that?

I actually joined one of those ridiculous dating sites… Sigh. Tons of weirdos starting appearing, of course, since I used my real profile pic (I still dunno why I did). Lots of non-people, nothing interesting except for one guy who seemed human enough. We started chatting and planned a coffee date for tomorrow. But last night he got creepy, all via WhatsApp… invited me to join him for a work trip today…. we haven’t even seen each other in person before and he was asking me to go 2 hours out of the city to a hotel with him… What the fuck is that?

And here’s the best part of all this: Looking at my title above… Damn. Could he be just as lonely and desperate as me? Perhaps he’s harmless and just wants to make contact. I can relate to that. But there’s the very real possibility that he’s a complete freak who might harm me as well. Haha. What a fucked up world this is. Jesus.

We are so damaged. So very damaged and it’s almost beyond our control

Anyway, there’s so much more to be said. I still haven’t sorted out my job/financial situation. That’s another thing I’m too scared to talk about.

So instead, there’s Alanis. I truly never realised how amazing Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie really is… Unbelievably good. I’m grateful to discover it. Here’s one that’s really worth a deep ponder:

It’s Monday night and the bed is turned down as I slip into my gown
My thoughts are of you … last year around this time, my birthday was near
You were the very one to whisper happy birthday in my ear
Your soft breath your soft touch enlightened with my glow
I can smell your skin … I can feel your love flow

As I now get into bed, I am reminded of the way you touched me
And the way you held me so tight … (my breaths are getting deep)
You gently stroked your fingers oh so lightly over my body as if to heal
Yet the oil was warm in your hand, and the girl …. Well, she’s a fan

As I lay here, heart skipping a beat, thinking about the things you use to do to me
The sweetest fruits and the chocolate kisses … made me want to be your Mrs.
My heart is now in high command and the girl is not far from there
I miss your touch and I miss your kiss

The girl sends her love, says she daddy she does miss
My eyes are falling into the abyss with my last thoughts of this ….

My back was arched and the fire was hot on the Persian rug in the loft, you were in and out
I was round about and the two were so intertwined then … our love …..(Wait stop) …. (It’s getting hot) …

Our love melted …. Our love melted …. Into …. One!
It’s Monday night and you thought football was all that you get (lol)

I’m Summer B … the poetic mistress

2012 copyright ©
http://www.bradshaucompany.com

Everyone wants to believe that the person they love is perfect, never going to hurt them, and will always be there for them. Unfortunately this is not always the case, there are far to many cases of abuse in the world and as woman we need to stick together. People in this scenario usually do not see a way out the abusers have them scared for their lives so scared they feel they will be killed if they are caught. But believe me if you are in this situation you have options. There are numbers you can call, contact the police, tell your friends, tell your family. What ever you choose to do TELL SOMEONE!!! Woman die from this to many times and please don’t let this happen to you this is NOT your fault you need to get out of there and find your own safe haven.

The hills to climb to reach the top

Were vast and many

A few stumbled a few fell

It left scars too deep to heal

So many just quit without a second glance

I climbed even though it hurt

When I fell I brushed myself off

The wounds kept coming  

But I went on

Slowly the world began to turn

I was almost to the top

Passing a few familiar faces

I asked them why they stopped

Their reasons were simple enough

Though their reasons were not enough

I kept going telling them I would return

I knew and they had to have known I would never return

Grabbing hold of a large rock I felt a wobble

But it was a hand that grasped my own

A fellow climber smiled down at me

Helping me up to the top I found my balance

I saw the top for just a moment

My struggles were similar yet different from them

They had cuts, wounds that healed

Below were those who were left still to climb

But I was top of the mountain only few make it this far

And only a few will continue the journey

And some will still fall

It’s important to understand

To fall is to learn

To hurt is to build strength

And rise again. 

A poem to represent life and the struggles we have, but the ultimate goal is to never give up. 

I AM A COLLEGE GRADUATE! WOOHOOO.

But now what?!?!

Last time we spoke I was filled with sickness and snot and all the things that make the world stop. But weeks later and my social life coming to a complete halt, I am back with great news to spread through this small town. The only problem is now what the fuck do I do with the rest of my life? I have a semi plan but there’s always those what if thoughts. Examples:

What if I find out I’m not as great as I thought I would be?!

What if this is the biggest mistake of my life? 

What if after this decision I will fail at life and have nothing to look forward to but lifetime movies and time with the nine cats I have adopted over the years?

What if I hit my peak in life already?!?!?!

I know I need to calm my tits but seriously being a twenty something sucks ass. We are at that in between stage of life where we want to be young and reckless but at the same time we want to be seen as adults and mature human beings capable of doing good in the world. We are also trying to figure out what kind of person we are, what kind of lover we are, and what will we do for the rest of our lives. Because if you are still getting by on noodles in your thirties you obviously fucked up somewhere in life.

So as I type this and listen to the Disney Wishes soundtrack and hoping today is the day I figure out what I do with the rest of my life, I realize how much I really do want my dreams to come true. I am going to share something with you that I have never shared with anyone (well maybe my best friend when I was drunk but he was too busy making sure I didn’t choke on my vomit he probably missed it). I want a boyfriend that turns into a fiance that turns into a husband. I have a wedding planned in my head and  it’s pretty fucking fancy if you ask me. I want a job where I help people, make them laugh and make their dreams come true but also make enough bank that I can provide for everyone in my life at the time. Hell I wouldn’t even mind adopting a kid or two because I seriously can not see myself popping anything out or even being preggers for nine months. (Seriously how do women do it?!) I want to have a group of girlfriends that I can rely on and bitch about first world problems with. I want a boob reduction paid with my own insurance. I want a cute little home on a nice street that is quiet enough for the kids to play on like I had growing up but close enough to a city that I don’t have to travel hours to get to a grocery store. I want it alll!

You may think that’s not  a lot to ask for hell some may even think it is the ’Merican Dream (Fuck Yeah!). But for a girl like me, the girl who never gets the guy she wants fully, the girl who fucks up her life left and right, the girl who is her worst enemy...it is asking for a lot. 

See in college I learned how to add and subtract on a higher level. I learned about chemistry and physics and even why there are storms. I learned I suck at public speaking no matter what and I am more of a listener and the world needs more people like me. But I didn’t learn what to do when your friends decide they hate you but don’t explain why. How do you get yourself to stop liking someone when college stops and the guy you have been hooking up with goes back home that is nowhere near you. What do I do the days that I get so sad that the only energy I have is to lay on my floor and stare at the ceiling wondering where the fuck is my life going. Most importantly why couldn’t I be one of those fucking awesome Disney kids when I was younger because than I wouldn’t be here thinking about this shit… I would be in rehab trying to get rid of my coke problem on my managers dime.

The biggest thing it didn’t teach me was how to say goodbye to people you love and care about to go out in the real world where it seems like the only thing that awaits me is bad sex and broken dreams. How to take that leap of faith and hope my whole world does not come crashing down. I have two weeks to say goodbye to the place I have called my home for my college career and unlike most grads I don’t have any other home. I have been a nomad for some time now… my car is my home. Yes I’m technically homeless. So to leave a comfortable home to potentially live in my car again is a scare ass thought. I don’t want to be a failure. But sometimes I feel like that’s all I will ever be.

Usually in times like these I find comfort in the show Boy Meets World.

“Believe in yourself, dream, try, do good.” – Mr Feeny

Mr Feeny will never know how much of an impact he has had on my life.

And with these words of encouragement I pack my bags and bins with great hope for the future. ♥

But I remember that one search was the beginning of my desire to find what is lost…what is missing…what is needed.

I understand what it feels like to lose something. And I understand what it feels like when I find what was lost to me.

I remember a few months back, when I couldn’t find my Nintendo 3DS. I almost freaked out then…I was on the verge of tears.

Tradis (yes, I named my 3DS…I name my gadgets~) is very dear to me since I almost always never leave home without her with me. She keeps me from being bored during class, she keeps me busy during long hours of nothing, and lately, there has been a lot of 3DS games being released and since I do not own neither a PS3 nor an Xbox360, I have played more games with my Tradis than I ever had with the GameBoy Advance. It’s been at least two or three years since I’ve had this treasure.

Here’s my treasure~<3

Now, imagine losing something you’ve had for such a long time that you have felt as though that something has become a part of you now and could never imagine what you would do without it. Maybe you’d feel devastated like I did. Maybe you’d feel like a part of you died like I did. Maybe you’d feel so many different emotions that they just cancel out each other; leaving you with nothing…maybe you’d feel nothing and that’s worse than feeling sad.

I have lost a lot of things back then.

Everytime I’d get heartbroken, I’d lose grasp of who I thought I was…and that just sucks. I’m fooled into thinking every woman I have ever tried to show affection for have changed me into a better person, and it usually ends up being the opposite.

During the 6^th grade, an upperclassman borrowed my GameBoy Advance SP…the bastard never returned it. I don’t understand now why I was that nice…maybe so gullible into trusting who was the “school president” then that he’d be trustful enough to return something that was mine. This led me into buying a replacement…since I can’t play GBA games on a 3DS. I don’t think I’d ever want to lend something of mine for a long time anymore…especially if it’s a videogame console.

Now, losing my 3DS was the worst 2 hours of my life that time. When I just stood there dumbfounded, my whole life with Tradis came flashing before my eyes. Memorable scenes of games and times when I was wiping her clean came before me…and after all that, just losing her wasn’t acceptable.

And then I found Tradis again, inside one of my bags which I checked the first time…then checked again. I shed a few tears of joy after being reunited with my one special instrument of gaming glory. I vowed then that Tradis would never leave me like that again.

I know someday, this machine will give in and I’d have to find a replacement (a 3DS XL, but that’s probably a year or so…), but for now, Tradis is my precious, one-in a million gaming gadget that I can never live without.

And then a few weeks later, I would lose not a machine, but a human friend.

I’ve mentioned her lots of times already, dear readers, and I guess I can’t stop. This is all too new to me, and I’ve never lost someone I’ve felt a connection with before…and I mean literally. She was a friend who understood me and everyone else. She was someone I could tell almost everything to, including the girl I was crushing on (who recently rejected me and sort of has ceased contact…”just friends” indeed.)…and she was someone who trusted me, enough to tell me her condition, enough to include me into what could have been a wonderful friendship. I know I should live on and just get over it, but I’m just this kind of guy…someone who takes loss a bit too deeply.

Friends aside…Tradis was there to get me back up on my feet and remind me that life goes on and she was there to help me live again.

Ok, in case you feel like I’ve been sidetracked, that’s all part of this randomness.

Usually, when you lose something, you lose more than that…you may also lose your mind, your will to live, and your will to continue with your work. And believe me, I dropped a subject because of such a loss (but I really was laze to begin with…) and it’s up to you to find a way to redeem yourself.

Like during my latest heartbreak a couple of months ago…I found it a miracle that I just kept on coming to class (and I finished that term with high marks too)…I found a way to cope with the loss of affection by playing video games.

Then, there was the time I lost control of my budgeting…one crazy way I found to survive the day was to sleep so late, I’d wake up in the afternoon…forcing me to skip breakfast. By eating brunch, I saved a little on money. Not a reliable method, but it pays the bills (the food bills, anyway).

And if we’re going to go deeper…during my days in Ateneo…I was in search of something far greater than whatever deep things I mentioned…I was in search of myself.

During that journey to the self, you discover lots of things…about others, about everyday routines, about how dull it seems to watch some of your classmates answer during recitations with a wordy vocabulary…and you realize you’re not actually looking at yourself. (yeah, this is deeeeeep)

But beyond that, sometimes, you need someone, a mentor, to help you realize these things. You are taught how to live more, know more, understand more, and appreciate more because of this person who feels you must learn to have the will to keep searching for the very thing you wanted no matter how much you’ve given up already, and this someone helped me grow up a little. That mentor of mine is now one of my best of friends and I owe some of my improvements to her.

I can argue that this is some sort of honourable act of paying my debts to my best friend, but deep down, I really just like searching for things…I get to explore the cities (usually the malls) and see new sights (usually buildings and people)…and above all, I get to help someone…still, there have been things that my mentor and her little sister has been searching for that I took it as a lifelong mission to find…well, three or four, since I’ve been counting them.

The first two were colored pad papers…you know you can find a lot of rainbow pads and yellow pads, but my mentor’s little sister was in search of rare ones. One paper was orange and the other was violet. She needed it for her religion class. I barely found the violet one (and it didn’t look as violet) and she colored another paper orange since it couldn’t be found. I vowed that until the end of my years that I will find her an orange pad and a possibly more violet pad…even if she wouldn’t need them anymore. (Currently, I’m trying to help her with her dilemma regarding college entrance exams and whatever…)

If only that religion teacher were colorblind…

Next, which is my current mission, is to search for a relic. Well, not really an artifact, but it’s an old game. My mentor said her lover’s been craving for this game…Chrono Trigger for the Nintendo DS. She wanted to have it in time for her lover’s birthday and I, always wanting to help my close friends, am on the case. I am limited to searching for local areas, and eBay is out of the picture (a local dealer gave a refund saying their copy was defective…I did not know how it could be defective, though)…somewhere in Manila, there must be a copy of that old gem of a game. And I will try to find it…in the name of two lovers~

If anyone can tell me where in the Philippines I can find this, that’d be much appreciated.

Now, don’t get me wrong…I have also searched for other things before…I once had a blockmate who kept losing her things…from her planner (which she left on her seat after classes…and I returned it) to her filecase (which had a lot of backtracking and janitor-asking)…and I tried to look for another blockmate’s folder (had a Tinkerbell design) but failed. Some people have also lost ID’s and cellphones…and I try my best to either look for the person (even find them on Facebook) or just leave them to the authorities (as in give the lost items to the office). Sometimes, it’s meddling, but either way, my only reason is I just feel like looking for stuff…and I just can’t sit idly by thinking no one’s there to help them look for stuff they’ve lost. (Yeah…that’s part of my Superhero Complex)

Despite all of those other searches…one mission will always remain…corny as it may sound, I will always have the quest for love. Countless heartbreak is not going to stop me now…after all I’ve lived through. I have been searching for 19 years and roughly 10 months for the one…and maybe it’s still too early for me, who grows ever so impatient in the middle of an ever-increasing bunch of couples in this world, but I will still keep on looking for that special someone and I will sometimes tire, but I will never give up until I find her, probably waiting for me too.

And now to end this post with what I think is a cool ending line~

In this life, there are things you lose and either find again or be separated from forever…there are truths you will try to uncover, no matter what the consequences…there will be things you find that are meant to be found by others…and there are goals we will tirelessly seek. I try to find all of them. I seek and deliver.

I am a seeker.

When God asked the question “Where are you?” it was not because God could not find Adam but God wanted Adam to locate himself and be aware of where he was. God wanted to help him.

 When you know where you are, then you will be able to get directions to where you need to be. For Example, if I am lost and call for help I must be able to say I am at XYZ Street between ABC Avenue. In order to get the necessary help I need otherwise I will spend my life wandering aimlessly.

 I ask you beloved:

Where are you emotionally?

Where are you financially

Where are you spiritually?

Where are you physically?

Beloved, not only does God sees where we are, but He sees where we can be.

Whoops! Wrong kind of spoiler!

We’ve all seen series that can’t give a satisfying conclusion. People have complained about the ending of The Sopranos abrupt “fade to black” or Lost’s “limbo in church.” Even the super-popular Seinfeld sitcom couldn’t think of anything better than the “they all go to jail” ending.

Dinosaurs’ series finale didn’t suffer the same fate. I’ll have to say the writers did give a satisfying conclusion. The problem is it was one of the most depressing one’s ever!

The volcano will have special meaning later.

First, here’s a brief summary of the show for those that haven’t seen it…

Dinosaurs was a situation comedy using dinosaur puppets as the primary characters. Think of it like the Simpsons, but with dinosaurs. The show focuses on the Sinclair family. Earl is the head of the family, who (like Homer), is dumb but does a lot of things to make sure that his family is taken care of. Fran is Earl’s wife, who takes care of the home. There’s also Robbie and Charlene, the son and daughter of Earl and Fran. Robbie is rebellious and tends to question authority (especially when it seems stupid). Charlene’s main focus is to be popular and tries to find ways to increase her status in the school.

Finally, we have Baby, who is the youngest of the family and hatched in the first episode. He loves to tease Earl by calling him “not the mama” and he tends to show his affection to his father in unorthodox ways.

So let’s now go to the final episode of the show…

The very last episode of the show has the Sinclair family waiting for the Bunch Beetle migration to happen. However, the Bunch Beetle has already been wiped out because a wax fruit factory was built on the insect’s breeding grounds. Without the Bunch Beetles, the entire continent becomes overrun by a creeper vine. The creeper vines are usually kept in check by the Bunch Beetles, who usually eat the plant.

Earl is put in charge to keep the creeper vines in check and decides to spray a massive amount of plant killer on the continent. This proves disastrous as this also kills all plant life on the continent! A new plan is hatched to have massive amounts of rain by causing all of the volcanoes to errupt, which is an extremely bad idea as it just covers the entire planet with a cloud of ash, resulting in global cooling because no sunlight can enter the atmosphere.

Now, here’s the final and most depressing ending to a show I’ve ever seen…

So, not only did they all die horrible deaths in the freezing cold, they also essentially killed themselves. I knew they wanted to send a message to the viewers that we have to take care of nature and all of that, but did they have to kill off a great cast of characters to make that point?

Makes you wonder how they’ll kill off the characters in Ice Age…

“Mommy! Mommy! Did the tribe of humans really eat Manny and Diego?”

If you have any comments or suggestions, please leave them below!

like the leading lady role
your call-back wasn’t enough to get
that perfect wedding dress
that was the last one in a size that didn’t fit…

so close, but no cigar for us my dear…
you are the one I almost loved sincere
but like the rainbow that never got to appear…
we were the perfect couple, lost to fear…

you were the one i almost loved in real life…
but now, i’ll love you in my dreams until i die…
it’s been a few years, and we still have yet to say goodbye…
when they ask me why not him, you’re the reason why…

that number one hit, the record company turned down
the perfect make up until the rain drenched me wet…
and all i can hope, and all i can pray for any more
is that our chance, isn’t really over yet…our sun hasn’t truly set

Fourth week.

It won’t stop raining.  Today is a holiday.  Nothing is open.  Nothing is dry.

I didn’t leave the apartment all morning.

It’s queer how so much is subjective.  I ran this afternoon.  I almost baulked because of cold, wind and rain.  Yet on top of Mt. Kenya, in rain then hale then snow storms, drenched, beyond cold, hiding in caves and sleeping in an exposed shed, I had the time of my life.  You think reward for effort.  But identical conditions can be repulsive in one scenario and exhilarating in another.  It’s all in the head.  I really need to meditate more.

There really isn’t much in my thoughts to write.

I heard this spoken at the end of a song.

As soon as individuals begin to clot,
As soon as they begin to clot they change.
And the larger the group the more toxic.
The more of your beauty as an individual you have to surrender for the sake of group thought.
And when you suspend your individual beauty you also give up a lot of your humanity.
You will do things in the name of the group that you would never do on your own because you’ve lost your identity.
Because you now owe your allegiance to this things, and it’s bigger than you are.
And that controls you.

Problem is, we can’t find our humanity without the help of humanity.

Last night my window fell open such that when rain hit it, the water flowed down the window into my bag and on the floor.  It rained a lot last night.

It seems people look better under strobe.

Learning French is (cursive) brilliant.

One does a deed for another.  The latter gives the former money because the former has put himself out.  Hard to believe that’s the standard given the essentially limitless options.

One of the best red wines i’ve ever had costs four euros from the supermarket here.

La Seine has a fantastic gunmetal grey / green colour when it’s raining and overcast.  The monochromatic surfaces of Parisian buildings put their parks in relief when they’re wet.

Two young fish are swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way who nods at them and says “Morning boys, how’s the water?”  The two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and says “What the hell is water?” (D.F. Wallace).

Education is the most wonderful gift there is.  Perspective is everything.

At any rate, here I am, writing in my blog again because I’m having trouble writing in multiple directions. I’ve finished and submitted a few short stories recently; and I’m doing my best to avoid tearing myself apart as I await news. I honestly wish I had some new ideas for short stories to distract myself with, but at the same time, these detract from my main writing goal… I’m going bi-polar nutzoid all over my first manuscript right now. I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that this first revision is really more of a rewrite and will probably take at last one more revision after this one. With 7 years and counting already, this means I should probably move things along.

But…

Well…

I have confidence issues. A lot of them. I’ll admit it. I cannot think of one thing I’ve been truly confident about my entire life. Even when I am largely positive on a manner, I have to fight back a hoard of doubts and inner voices telling me I’m screwing up once again. I hate to blame the past but…well…anyone who knows me knows where this all started. Regardless, the past is the past and I need to move on. My current issues are exactly that–current–so it’s up to current me to deal with them and fix them–I only have me to blame. Yet every time I think I’ve found a solution, it’s only temporary.

I could probably use therapy as far as society is concerned, but I’ve tried that. I hate it. Some annoying person staring at me and acting like they understand what goes on in my head, never fully understanding because some things are better left unsaid, and judging me every time I get comfortable enough to let them know what I really think and really want. “You like unconventional relationships? Have you ever thought about how that might be affecting your mental state? You believe in things beyond the normal? How is that really helping you?” Etc…etc…etc…In the end it just drives me farther inside myself and makes things worse.

They tried medication, too, but it was just one thing after another. Appetite loss with severe nausea and an increase in mental breaks. Appetite gain at a depressing 30 lbs in one week, with an inability to lose weight. And that final one…seemingly perfect as far as anyone could tell, even me for a time. Until I had the scary realization that I was happy because I could no longer be sad, no matter what happened. I felt empty and things felt unimportant, but I was happy–for no reason. I can’t deal with that. And I won’t deal with the judgments of accompanying therapy. And I’ll be damned if they’re going to say that the benefits outweigh the costs when I’m breastfeeding a baby that these medicines could affect. (To be honest, they said this about pregnancy, not breastfeeding, but I’m pretty sure that’s worse.) So pills, therapy–these are out.

I need to find my own way, but I can’t seem to find it.

I’m exhausted every morning and depressed most days, with occasional highs where the clouds seem to part and the sun sings just for me. These highs are few and far between, and I usually tank harder afterwards, reviling everything that came as a product of those highs–including my writing.

Which brings me to one of my biggest issues at current. Over the years, my writing voice has changed. It’s for the better, I think. I see it in my short stories and I absolutely love it. Yet, when it tries to translate to my novel manuscript, it flops. I feel like I’m drowning. I’ll write bits in spurts, but it seems worse than ever to me, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I think at this point I’m trying too hard because I want to get it out there so badly. My writing isn’t the only thing that’s changed. The YA writing market has too. It seems to be moving more toward 1st person and less description in order to better catch today’s readers and relate to them. My current voice favors first person, but that’s not what my novel is, not what it needs.

I know that, but I think I’m still having trouble voicing it.

Perhaps I’m wrong. I could be blowing it all wildly out of portion. I’ve gotten good feedback, but I’m mostly hanging onto the negative. I look at it all, the past version and the version I’m currently writing, and it’s all crap.

I’m rapidly approaching the point at which I want to burn every last file associated with it and call it quits. At one point I thought I had something worthwhile and that I could do it justice. But I’m not so sure anymore.

I want to write. I need to write. But I feel like I’m drowning out here on my own. I have no idea what to do, and I’m worried I may have lost this story for good…

Well, there was another reason for writing this post, other than letting off some much needed steam–not that it’s helped much. I’m procrastinating. I have to write a paper on how I would write a research paper on the 17th and 18th centuries using poetry.

I’m tired of writing academic papers…absolutely bored with it…but I should get to that now.

So, good ranting at you. Keep on writing, and may your efforts bring sweeter fruit than mine currently are.

–Faye Bruun, yukazshadow

“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)

“Down” did not adequately describe it. It was more like “frustrated” and “angry” at myself over what I had done. Let me explain…

Our family van has served us well for thirteen years. It is time to look for another one. I have been scouring Internet sites for possibilities and found one that I wanted to go and see.

When I left the house in the morning with my laptop, I went to meet some men from our church at Bob Evans Restaurant. Then I went to downtown Dayton to see this van. The salesman asked if I wanted to test drive it and I said “yes”. My bag with the laptop went in the van right behind the driver’s seat. When we returned, as best as I can remember, I forgot to take my bag out.

After leaving the dealership, I drove north about thirty minutes to a doctor’s appointment. I still have not realized the bag with my laptop is not with me. I spend 30-45 minutes with the doctor and on my way back to Dayton, I realize the bag is missing. I go back to the dealer to see if the bag is there. He did not see a bag nor was it in the van we test-drove together.

By this time I am racking my brain trying to think where it could be. Could it be at Bob Evans? Could it be at the doctor’s office? Could I have left it in the van or even in the parking lot of the dealership? I did not know for certain.

Then I began to pray and talk to God about it. I expressed my frustration in an honest way and acknowledged the laptop and everything else in the bag belonged to Him and that He knew where it was. I asked him if He would direct me to it. Then I called my wife and shared the news. Andrea was very understanding and, unknowingly to me, gathered our daughters together and prayed. I am so grateful to God for a loving wife who responded in a Christ-centered way.

The next morning Andrea and I were driving to a meeting and received a phone call. The bag with the laptop had been discovered! The nice lady gave us the location of the bag and, after our meeting, we went directly to the VA Hospital in Dayton. How did it end up at the VA Hospital? We were soon to find out.

We found the building and walked into the Food Services Department. This is where they prepare the food for all the guests at the hospital. Maxine, a supervisor for this area, greeted us and returned the laptop. Everything was in order. Maxine then called Leroy, an employee there, over to meet us. Leroy came over and we were able to personally thank this man who found the laptop.

Leroy told us that he was test-driving a van and found the bag. He was not sure if he should return it to the dealer or try to find the owner. He brought it to work and people named Rodney, Tonya, and Henry all were a part of helping Leroy find us. They used every clue in the bag to use the Internet to locate the owner. We had a good time proclaiming the goodness of God to one another.

We are so used to hearing bad news through all the media outlets, that it is refreshing to hear a story of honesty and integrity. In the end, it is only an object and it was not a matter of life and death. If we had never found it, we still would have been okay. However, the Lord used Leroy and his co-workers in our lives to encourage us and confirm in them their hearts to help others.

يتم أبدا العثور على الوقت الضائع مرة أخرى

So, life is good, really good…In my next posts I’ll be posting pictures, writing about my beach adventures, my exercise routine, my eating habits, my jobs and my new life. Just so you have an idea what I am up to lately. I know you are dying to know, yes YOU. Ha Ha Ha I’m very funny I know…

Just to give you a heads up I gotta go because I am on week 2, day 8 of my ‘Insanity’ workout. It’s tough I’m not going to lie, as soon as it starts I’m like: Only 35 minutes left, only 30 minutes left, only 25 left, it will get easier, it will get easier, it will get easier…I am such a chicken when it comes to exercise but its just the beginning, I’m going to pull through because I am literally tired of giving up and making up excuses for myself. TIRED. I want to stick to something, something and what better thing to stick to than your health and your body. Nothing beats that.

If you are reading, thank you for staying tuned, I love you and thank you. More juicy stuff coming soon I promise…

Kisses and love,

Natalie

He plays sports to occupy time and when practice ends he notices
he’s the only one being picked up by his mom.

As time goes on he becomes an adolescent drunk with no where to run.
He starts to grow colder because he can’t figure out why he’s never sober.

No trust in his life, he then attempts to build a life with Christ. He goes to church
and prays every night but nothing ever seems to go right.

He never understood why his mom is the only one who raised him.
He reaches out to his father only for him to cold case him.

He then forgives himself for tearing himself, apart.
He recognizes that it wasn’t his fault from the start.

He realizes he couldn’t changed how he was raised
and all he could do is turn the page…

But what if you lose this human tendency? What if somehow, at some point, you have nothing you believe? Or become unsure of your belief?

You don’t know what to do. You no longer know what you want. You drift day by day. Never really moving forward. You only move. Motion without actual direction. You’re lost.

I guess we just have to find something to believe in. Or at least, figure out that one thing you have always believed in.

Some kind of god. The power of the universe. Science. Love. Fate. Destiny. Dreams. Family. Friends. Yourself.

You have to believe in something. Because if not, you have nothing else to do but exist in the emptiest sense of the word. Float through life and reality then die without sense and purpose. You just live by dying.

What if that’s not bad at all?

I feel lost already. I’ve been thinking about changing my major for so long. I really hate what I’m studying, and I have this strong feeling that tells me I can do something great somewhere else.. only these compliments, and those comments people throw over my face when they know I’m willing to transfer, DRAGS.ME.TO.HELL!

I really want to go somewhere, far away, where I can only hear my voice and no one else’s. Somewhere I can answer the question with no interruptions, somewhere I can scream: WHAT DO I, Enn, WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE?

I straddle in wake over reason,

Hear cries slowly looming. I sit. Stare. 

Falling far under feet I lay soiled,

in heat over rain, I’m caved in.

To sometimes see the rippling surrounding echo,

Ringing to temple “in between”.

Silence seeks more, but looming, glare. 

Hunting, seeking, sliding; just to feel - 

White flag is withering. But still seeking.

Dull shakes, ringing wall.

No steps, Just fall

Searching.