My Mom would wait to the very minute after an acceptable hour because she didn’t want to call too early. She would tell me “Happy Birthday.” Then Mom would tell me how she remembers the day I was born.
Continue readingMonthly Archives: September 2019
About Missing Out
Sometimes, you have to just look around. Sometimes, you have to see the world is not such a bad place. There are beautiful things everywhere you look. Sometimes, it just takes a moment to notice.
Mom used to tell me, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”
Another friend of mine used to go shooting with me. He used to tell me, “Aim small, miss small.”
We give in to too much distraction, you and me. We lose sight of much bigger goals.
Operation Depression: The Rebound
With this being a month of awareness, I wanted to add another entry about a topic which is familiar to us all but seldom spoke open so openly and honestly. This might be helpful to someone that feels lost or hopeless. Maybe they feel that constant sense of impending doom. Or, maybe this will help someone that literally feels like they are drowning, slowly and sinking in, and yet, it seems like there’s nothing they can do to stop themselves from being pulled under.
Continue readingThe Game
Every so often, I will see a poker tournament on television. I watch to see the players, all of them with their own style, most of them wearing sunglasses to keep their opponents from seeing their eyes, or catching their “Tells” as they call, which means their eyes might tell a story about the cards their holding.
The stakes are high and the pressure is too. Everything is all dressed up loud and colorful—there’s a crowd and the people cheered on occasion, which glamorizes and glorifies the event even more. This competition attracts all kinds of competitors; all different types of people from different backgrounds and different heritage. and all of them jabber at each other in one form or another. This is to get under the skin of their opponent.
Letters From A Son: Pop
Wintertime 2011
The tide moved in early to show the face of an old memory. I feel the sands surrounding my footsteps, and moving closer to the edge of an ocean, I am me between the land and sea, hopeful as ever, dreaming, thinking of the time I was a small boy and placed my footsteps in the path of my Old Man.
Continue readingFor A Little Girl Gone
This is for you:
Once upon a time,
there was a little girl that had no voice.
But it’s okay, little girl.
You can come out now.
It’s time for us to talk.
About Letting it Go
Do you remember the first time you were really hurt? Do you remember the first time you fell off your bicycle and skinned your knee and then felt the sting after Mom sprayed something on it to keep the scrape from being infected? Did you ever fall or break a bone or do something so silly or stupid or idiotic and as a result, you learned your lesson through physical pain? Have you ever felt physical pain and someone told you, “Oh, come on. it’s not that bad!” but to you it was that bad?
Continue readingWhen It’s Time To Get up, Stand up
Way back, years ago when I stood in the doorway of a small apartment and looked around, the rooms were emptied again, the furniture had all been moved out. The couches were gone, cable television was disconnected, and all the photographs from the wall had been removed. I stood here in awe of my change. I lived here. More accurately, I transformed here. My world became mine again.
Continue readingOperation Depression: Suicide Prevention Week 2019
When there is no further left to fall, then there is no reason to worry about the long list of inestimable tragedies that may or may not take place.
This is it, here and now, the bottom. This is where there are only two choices, which is to remain or rebuild.
That’s all . . .
A Written Dream
I think about the places I have been to and places I have never seen. I also think of places that I’ve only dreamed of and hope to visit someday. I imagine myself elsewhere, at someplace that I’m not even sure if it truly exists.
Perhaps this place only exists to me. Or maybe I pictured this from a piece of literature, read from one of the great poets, like my favorite, Kerouac, or someone like him.
Either way, I see myself somewhere far from my usual routine and visiting an unknown crevice of the world that has not been been bordered by some man made boundary . Maybe I could be near the border, between reality and my dream. Perhaps I can see is the Gulf of Mexico from where I’d stay and the shoreline to a land of a country I know so little about.
The Written Addiction 