Accepting Nominations

Accepting nominations and compliments is difficult for me. Needless to say, I do not do awards or nominations because, well, put simply, awards distract me. Plus, I never saw myself as this kind of writer.
The longer I am on this path, which I call my art, the more I learn about the person I want to be and the writer I want to become. Humbly, I see myself as this; I am proud to be as I am, which is self-taught. I am proud that I made a commitment to write and stuck with it. The commitment to write is something that I take very seriously. My growth as a writer and my ability to continue, regardless of the readers or the critics, is very important to me.

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My Secret of Tenacity

And here it is, sunrise, Sunday morning, and the leaves have all fallen from the trees surrounding my home. The mountains behind my property take on the hues of sunrise and the empty tree limbs hold the varying shades of red and orange. I say this is beautiful. I say this is more than beautiful. In fact, I say this is breathtaking and something I choose to call my daily dose.

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I do not believe personal success should ever depend on anyone else. Partnerships will happen and some partnerships will split. Along the way, we will grow and learn. We will gain experience and understand how to adjust our sights to build a better future.

Along the way, ethics and character will show enough evidence to see who to incorporate your time with, who you should invest your friendship with, who to trust, and who to confidently share your life with. However, personal improvement and personal success depends on our personal self.

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The Working Man’s Grind

Back on the farm were early mornings and early risings and out of bed at the count of 20. The beds themselves were nowhere near comfortable nor was it comfortable to sleep in a bunkhouse and accept the habits of other young men.

I suppose the biggest insult was not the squeaking from the bunks when someone rolled or moved around in the night. No, the worst was when the alarm went off. This is when a young man known as the dorm manager would run over to the light switch. He would count out loud in the darkness of the bunkhouse until reaching the number 20. Meanwhile, the lights came on, flickering brightly before the fluorescent bulbs reached full strength.

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