Gunfire & Second Chance Dolls

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Today

I don't know what to day for today as I have my second cup of coffee, feeding my dogs and thinking about making breakfast.  It's 8:50 a.m., no school called or teacher booked me for work this morning so I can clean, do laundry, and sell some of my collectibles on craigslist locally.

It's the anniversary of the tragedy of 09/11 and I'm unsure how to feel about it.

I'm saddened because some of my students have traveled overseas in the last decade, their smiles now faded, their demeanor grim, optimism in check and an uncertainty of why we're still there now that Osama Bin-Laden has been dispatched.  There's even a book about his death/murder/assignation, call-it-what-you-wish, being released today.


I don't know what to think: we sent boys overseas to stem the flow of mayhem and eliminate the creation of chaos and bring to justice the mastermind of this horror, the attacks on American soil.  Isn't it done?  Can't we bring them home and spend money on caring for these boys and their jarred memories and educate for tolerance instead of refitting airplanes with hot-and-cold running death?

In the past I have heard voice shouting that we need to rebuild the Twin Towers, akin to Hiroshima & Nagasaki being rebuilt after their atomic devastation.  But, when that occurred, it ended the war and began a way of creating a future with new life for our societies.  Shouldn't that have happened?

Maybe this is a test of rhetoric or specious logic to myself as a writer, or just to push out what I am feeling.  I saw a commercial recently that said, "Tomorrow I will ... " and people added things like shake the hand of a serviceman, police or fireworker, donate blood, help build a house.

Shouldn't we do these things every day?  Shouldn't we appreciate all our people do in any uniform they put on, weapon in hand, to care for our welfare?  Shouldn't we help the devastated, the unfortunate, the downtrodden, the sad, the less fortunate on a daily basis?  I don't have a lot, and sometimes I'm down to my last dollar, but that'll go away from my grip if someone ask me on the street.

Maybe I'm just full of shit today and every day, just like these guys.

But if you think I'm an asshole today I can understand.  

Remember the loss, do good, hope for the best of tomorrow.

Guess that's all.

Bye for today; watch for tomorrow.

Wanted: A Polaroid & a Prayer

Quit dwelling on the negative things people have said about you. You don't have to have everyone's approval. You have God's approval. ~ Joel Osteen

Jesus answered, “What God wants you to do is to believe in the one He sent.” John 6:29

Don't apologize for Who or What you are...

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” (Proverbs 3:5-5 NIV)

****

Today I was called as I scribbled another 500 +/- words for my new short stories, thinking carefully about how I can draw a little attention to myself and to my hopes of being a selling published writer.  My phone buzzed and it wasn't the usual bill collector trying to inch $300+ from my empty wallet, but a woman aching to get through college and attain her degree; she needed help with a annotated bibliography project, and I needed a break from trying to clean my tiny place and scribbling in the heat, or worrying about what was gonna happen next, or how to fight past the block of a few sentences I couldn't complete.

I went to Starbuck's and talked to her, asking her if she'd read the article she was trying to summarize and explain.  She'd read it twice but hadn't felt it sink in yet, asking a lot of questions about the minute references C.S. Lewis had in the article.  He also had many different play on words ideas floating in and out, making her a little more frustrated.  So I sat down, read the article, read her assignment, read her text book, read the syllabus, and finally asked her some pointed questions, such as "Did she understand what she read", and "Why is this important?", and so forth.

After working for 3 hours on this, rewriting it twice and me nagging her like I nag my students, I started talking on a more personal level.  Mind you, the woman is a very deep-believing Christian, holding tight to her faith when all else collapses around her.  She's kinda a role model from time to time, but didn't know about this part of me, the erotic writer, until today.

Well, after helping her and gossiping about a mutual friend, she said, "I gotta tell you something: you intimidate me, and I need that, as a source of a challenge to do my best work and try as hard as possible."

That statement took me off-guard, and after I asked why, she said, "Because you always seem larger than life, with all the things that have happened, good and bad.  Chasing women, fights, all the weird knowledge you possess, all the things I've seen you do, like cooking and dancing.  That's why you probably scare a lot of people."

All she told me took me off guard, maybe because I've been so down on myself and fearful, letting insecurity tear into my mind, body and soul, I ignored the people around me who see me as I should see myself.  Chances happen, things occur, the Universe unfolds and  should not look as if I've lost but am free to try something else.

Before she left, she said, "Can I pray for you?" 

"You can do whatever you want.  No prayer goes wasted," I replied.

Without hesitation she grabbed my hand, held it tight, and prayed aloud for my success, my future job, my love, my heart, my faith, my lust, my dreams, finances and anything else I had on my mind and in my barrel of anxieties.

Optimism could be flourishing faster than I can imagine.

Now I just need a Polaroid model.  If you've seen my novel covers you know I am trying to do something wicked to grab the attention of people who read my books, and I am looking for a model to pose for me.  I had a friend tell me that noone would ever know if I took a random pic from the internet, but I'd know.  That and someone could come back & whine about never getting paid and thus I'd be on the hook for a LOT of cash/damages/royalties.  If I secure a model now, maybe I can avoid the chaos.

This image is something I used in a previous blog and I shall detail further in my art blog, next door.

Ciao for now.

p.s. "For those of you who wish you, you may say, "I did that already", or "I told you so."

Just for today (in pictures)

I went to church last week going to visit a shrine in town, praying for financial relief and a job; despite all the links I haven't seen or been called yet.

 

I was here driving, needing coffee creamer and tea, which I bought at my local store, but added to my $7 a stick of beef jerky.  So there went half my money.

But before I bought what I needed I found this boy walking around the front of the store; the scents of the deli & kitchen were probably making him nuts so I made sure he had a little something as I couldn't take him home with me.

And this was my drive home.  I'm out in the sticks, and so is my school; I'd rather teach than substitute but I know that I can post my stories and do my best with a little anonymity and maybe make some money from my stories.

Why do I go back to my stories?  I was wondering why was I a contradiction: I couldn't create successfully anything nor find anyone looking into my blogs or my works, unless I wrote something obscene/erotic.  and I can't be ashamed or deny than and be sad all the time.  I have to make a better effort and cry, accepting, but not QUITTING!

That's what I've been doing for a while, giving up on myself when others haven't, and I can't tell you all how grateful I am for all your prayers, notes, links and hopes in my direction.

Sure, I'm in debt.  Heavy debt, but I can make it one day.

Unfulfilled but I've gotta keep pecking away at the wall hoping something will change.

Scared?  Yes, but if I don't face my fears now I never will face them.

So ... another little step forward.

Hopefully.

Take care everyone.

Dancing

Q: How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?
A: Depends on the tune.


Faith.

I don't know if I am losing mine or being tested, but I am still unhappy.  No matter who I am or what I do nothing makes me smile like I've smiled before, and I am dying inside a little more.

Faith & Faithless

I tremble nightly, hearing the calls, the phone buzzing, the unknown numbers, the endless tract of letters that I can’t open.  Fear creeps into my spine and I hate myself, crying, lighting candles and praying to assuage my tears.

I’m endlessly sad, worried and wishful that some bundle would fall from heaven.  I was hoping to know my book had shitloads of downloads but the data didn’t come through, and I’ve only seen about 70+/- downloads at another, more PG site.

I rushed a few resumes at some possible employers, but I have my doubts, and I wish I had a bundle of cash to fend off the collectors.

I want to go away from it all.  I want to be a success and find people wanting the things I create, the stories I tell, and to feel capable for once in my life. 

I always blow my chances, and that makes me a loser.   People say, “You’re not a loser, as you haven’t given up”, but that doesn’t make me a loser, only a coward.

And unhappy.

Very fuckin’ unhappy.

I feel hammered by life, by hopes and by desires.  I need to change but every step I take collapses under me.  Nothing is supportive, and I feel misery attaching itself to my every thought, every hope.  I am awash in rejection letters and fearful of what the next month will bring me.

Dancing (posting this first)

DIFFERENT FOOTSTEPS

Imagine you and the Lord Jesus are walking down the road together. For much of the way, the Lord's footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely varying the pace. But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures, and returns.

For much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your footprints come more in line with the Lord's, soon paralleling His consistently. You and Jesus are walking as true friends! This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: Your footprints that once etched the sand next to Jesus' are now walking precisely in His steps. Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones, you and Jesus are becoming one.

This goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change. The footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger. Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints they have become one. This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back. This time it seems even worse! Zigzags all over the place. Stops. Starts. Gashes in the sand. A variable mess of prints. 

You are amazed and shocked. Your dream ends.

Now you pray: "Lord, I understand the first scene with zigzags and fits. I was a new Christian; I was just learning. But you walked on through the storm and helped me learn to walk with you."

"That is correct."

"... And when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually learning to walk in Your steps; followed you very closely." 

"Very good. You have understood everything so far."

"... When the smaller footprints grew and filled in Yours, I suppose that I was becoming like you in every way."

"Precisely."

"So, Lord, was there a regression or something? The footprints separated, and this time it was worse than at first."

There is a pause as the Lord answers with a smile in his voice. "You didn't know? That was when we danced."

To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: A time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

 http://www.2jesus.org/inspstories/different.html

Finished

Posted on Scribd as of today:

Collected Poems Final