New poem posted on Liquid Poetry.

A Plasmatic Journey

I'll try to get it added to my website tomorrow.

me

She twirled through the crowds with a smattering of rose petals tossed in her long blonde hair; a crown of wedding blessings the Elves had dubbed it. A small flock of halflings followed in her wake as the music surged to overtake the noise of the crowd. On the edge of the clearing I stood with a gentle giant and watched the proceedings. To a casual observer, this large man’s eyes surveyed the wedding commotion as a whole, but I knew he focused on the young lady who danced on her wedding day. Tears dampened his view and a quick wink dismissed them to the ground. I saw them fall and he knew I did, but he stood as a granite statue fixated on the events before him.

The start...I don't know about 30k of words, but it is a start.
Written in first person by Gnorman. I like it so far (see quote #10).

me

She is right....

30,000 by the end of the weekend. I have the time....now let me get to it.

Writing Quotes

1. “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” ~ Ray Bradbury
2. “I love writing. I love the swirl and swing of words as they tingle with human emotions.” ~ James Michener
3. “A synonym is a word you use when you can’t spell the other one.” ~ Baltasar Gracian
4. What no wife of a writer can ever understand is that a writer is working when he’s staring out the window.” ~ Burton Rascoe
5. “You write to communicate to the hearts and minds of others what’s burning inside you. And we edit to let the fire show through the smoke.” ~ Arthur Polotnik
6. “Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
7. “No man should ever publish a book until he has first read it to a woman.” ~ Van Wyck Brooks
8. “Work every day. No matter what has happened the day or night before, get up and bite the nail.” ~ Hemmingway
9. “Planning to write is not writing. Outlining . . . researching . . . talking to people about what you’re doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing.” ~ E. L. Doctorow
10. “Writers have to simultaneously believe the following two things:
1. The story I am now working on is the greatest work of genius ever written in English.
2. The story I am now working on is worthless drivel.
. . . . Of course, believing two contradictory facts at the same time is sometimes referred to as madness---but that, too, can be an asset to a writer.
~ Orson Scott Card

The thing is I don't want you to go back into the mist. You make everything clear.

me

Confusion ruins the glitter of life. Monday seems like the first day of the rest of my life until then it will be impossible to really do much. In essence I have no idea what I'm going to do with the car. I don't have $2000 stuck someplace, but I need it fixed. Right now I'm renting a car for $10 a day. How much longer can that last?

Yes M I've missed you more than you know. Trying to find a substitute for you is like wearing mismatched socks. At times it works out, but underneath everything you know it isn't quite right. After I scanned through the web things I plodded some words down, the most I've written in a week or so. It began as a story about a crazy man and it swept into an account of the past few months. A good form of therapy for myself I think. I always seem to get my truest feelings on paper or at least what I think they are at the moment.

I wrote this last night.

In our contemporary society, most women think men’s idea of love is pure and simple lust. I suggest real love has a seductive lust to it. Love can drip like the subtle clings of water from an old showerhead. Think about it, a warm drop of water never really heard until exposed and then it either becomes an annoyance or pure joy in knowing the familiar sounds of home. I’m not a scholar and love has no mathematical formula. Which is why I think no man or woman can stand up and describe what love is or should be. It is in the heart sauteed by time not by circumstance and they just know without question. That I think is true love.

I don't know what love is. What should I expect from it? How should I give it? From whom can I learn from to emblelish all the things people rant about? Am I capable of loving with my whole heart? My fear is I expect too much from it. I think I have this great capicity to love without compromise and with all-heart compassion and yet I stumble along after anyone who shows me any interest. I feed upon the discourse of the giddy tiddings of those first few weeks of self discovery, thinking this could be the answer and the ends to the earth I will follow. But the path twists and turns into a forest I would rather not venture into and I fill forced to cackle my dismay. The sensation of guilt overwhelms me and I lock my tongue behind my teeth and follow. The woods darken, we do not seek a sunny meadow where we can run and play, but rather the inner recesses of the shadows that consume our thoughts and spirit.

And I think about the lies. Ones I overlooked because of my sense of duty to uphold the feelings I've expressed. We forced compatibility. And one day I woke up and there was this different person near me I never knew existed. They tricksess usss.... I found my groove over the past few years and knew what I wanted, who I was and I think I have the ability to accomplish these things. Were they ever all that important to her? At first they were glorius ambitions and I would make a fine writer...programmer....whatever. But I felt as if she treated it all with distain as if I was some forgotten child who brought her a present. She scans (I wonder if she understands) and then I wait to be patted on the head and told, "Oh that's nice, put it with the others."

'On the pile the three year old distroyed when you let her sleep in my room?' I think to myself.

I take things too hard. I think too much. I scrutinize peoples actions to determine what they really feel. Isn't that my job? Isn't that my make-up? Or am I evaluating my life based on how others respond to my actions towards them?
I do. I thought it was my strength, it is now my weakness.

And yet I can't help but often think how I screwed the best thing in life up...it will always haunt me until the end of my days, even if she doesn't think so.

I'm sorry if you are reading this jumble and it sickens you. It helps me compare my thoughts during this time. But I've noticed where I'm done bitching about her (well somewhat) and I'm trying to realize what I know or feel. Better yet the lack of each within me. I thought I would be great for someone, maybe I should settle for satisfactory. I do know this, it will be a long slow journey. I'm tired. I guess this was my year to run. Physically (lost 120lbs) and emotionally both in and out. Now I'll rest some.

me

How come there are no do-overs in life? Can I erase it like an etch-a-sketch and redraw what I want? The problem with that is I'm quite awful with drawing and I'd probably screw it up even more. Again I'm digressing about writing and focusing on my personal life. This has turned out to be one of the worst weeks in my life, it is rising to number one with a bullet! Not like I'm David Letterman and I have a top ten list of bad weeks of my life, but I can't think of too many others that are similiar. My $450 repair job on my car has soared to $2000, I'm moving into a new place on Monday and everyone wants some of my money and I'm down to two nickles I rub together to keep myself warm with. I wish I was a blonde bimbo (no offense ladies), but then I could go dance at the local topless clubs to get some quick money. Program during the day and lap dance at night for an extra couple of hundred. I guess if I'm going to dream, why don't I dream about winning the powerball lottery? I suppose it would have helped if I played.

This afternoon I'm in a quagmire with everything that is going on. Everyone wants answers to questions I have no idea how to handle. Makes me want to curl up into a ball and goto sleep. Maybe the world will pass me by, but it isn't likely. At first they call, then send letters, then a big Lexus pulls up and a man in a nice suit makes you sign papers so you can go to the court system and tell them how poor you were because no one else listened. The frustrating thing about all this is I have a good job, I really don't splurge on things, but it is all because of this year. 2002 the death of me. Write that on your blog and make it stick!

I don't expect anyone to come to my rescue. Why should they? I've spent the last six months with someone who only knows how to take and she is trying to squeeze even more out of me. And it goes WAY...WAY (did you hear?) beyond $$$, she took my freedom and independance so she can do whatever she wants. I did something stupid Sunday, but I was at a breaking point. No I didn't hit her or anything that stupid, but there wasn't much common sense left in me at the time. Why did I do it? Because I was tired of trying to explain to her how I felt neglected. So I fled. If my car worked, I'd probably still be fleeing, but I can't. Want to hear something selfish? Beyond what you've already read? I feel I'm being punished for her lethargic lifestyle. She doesn't work. She complains. She sits on her ass and watches TV all day. While I worked, did laundry, made sure everyone had the things they needed and yet when it is all said and done. I'm the bad guy because I did care about her so much that I got to a breaking point when I found our she wanted to marry her EX to keep him in the country. This my friends was three weeks ago, before any talk of moving out. How do I know this? Because her best friend told me. I have not brought this up to her, because I was told in confidence, but I'm tired of hearing how hurt she was about how I left just before Christmas. It was a shitty thing to do, but this tidbit of information pushed me over the edge. I only wanted out before I got hurt. I was a paycheck, a roommate, there was no investment in my soul, only my bank account. That is why she doesn't want him deported, not that she loves him, but he won't be able to pay child support if he leaves the country. And she might have to *gasp* work!

She has this strange power over me and she knows it. She guilts me into things and I'm not even sure she knows she is doing it. Or she does and is damn crafty and evil. But I am Satan's minion, ready to do his bidding don't you know. I have responsabilities. I made decisions....I have forever to dispair...

me

So this is Christmas...

It is towards the end of the day and I'm contemplating on going to see LOTR again. The day started off well, getting woken up at 5:45 by my little girl. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as hers were wide open gazing at all the new presents under the tree. It made staying at my ex-wife's house for the night worth it. That my friends is another paragraph in the making! After everyone settled in, Tommy (he will be playing my son) donned his elf hat and passed out the presents under the tree. I received a book from my kids "The Shaping of Middle-Earth". Rachel's (she plays the ex-wife-renamed to X) new boyfriend (call him Bald Bunny) opened my only other present my daughter got me; from then on it seemed I was out of place. After the damage, the assembly of presents, batteries and the chance to 'check out loot' it was mid morning and I decided to say my good-byes.

I have the greatest gift of disappointing everyone I meet. I wish I knew how to stop doing this. Because of the recent events, I could not take Bekah (the sweet six year old that plays my daughter) for the week. She cried in my arms and I felt as I've been ground up in the grist mill. I held her for five minutes and tried to explain everything to her, but to a young girl there is no explaination. And if she hurt as much as I did, I couldn't cry enough to make the pain go away. There was no way I could bring her here.

X and Bald Bunny snuggled up on the couch as the idiot box blared some special reunion stories from some talk show. Tommy pulled out his M&M tie and tried to twist it around his neck. He wrestled with it until he gave the tie to the two rabbits on the couch and they took turns modeling his new look. Neither of them knew how to tie it and I chuckled to myself about how red this man's neck is, but I had strict orders not to make fun of anyone. I took the tie and with a few wooshes had it knotted up around my neck. To my son's dismay I took it off and proceeded to teach him how to do it for himself. After four or five times, he got a decent knot and length and vowed never to release the cloth from its bondage. I remarked the tie would develop creases and it wasn't wise for him to leave it in such condition. He put up a mild protest, but in the end the father figure (I think that is me) won out.

One might think I have a case of jealousy concerning the X and Bald Bunny. Amused would be more the description, I think she put on a small show for my benefit. Why? Rubbing the recent events in my face or trying to get me to leave I'm not sure, but it did make me uncomfortable. Usually I would say screw it and have fun with it, but remember my last post, I've been told I need to hold my tongue more often so I did. I think it made Tommy uncomfortable as well so I said my goodbyes; yes my daughter cried again, then left.

The only restraunt open nearby is Hooters. Christmas at Hooters, I should write a poem/song about it. I decided I didn't want a Christmas memory of ornage shorts and tank tops dancing in my head, I lie I do, but it is Christmas. Instead I stopped at a convience story (sometimes they really are handy!), bought some chocolate milk and frozen burritos! Woo hoo eat your heart out! Who needs ham, mashed taters and all the trimmings! Not like I planned on this cuisine, but things don't always work out as intended.

This next week is going to be long. A lot of difficult conversations, decisions and less than ideal conditions of the heart and mind are going to be involved. I know this blog is really supposed to be about my writing, but in the scheme of all things I haven't believed in much these past few months and this is the reflection of it all. I'm sad yes, but I don't blame anyone for where and what I'm doing today. I'm sad I let Bekah down, but I will make it up to her. I need to.

Merry Christmas, if my wishes and dreams can't come true, my sincere hope yours will!
me

I know it has been a while since I wrote on this thing. Too much crap has gone in my life to think much about writing. These changes must be made if I'm going to become the resemblance of man I used to be, I've forgotten who I am and what I want. In some retrospects, I suppose it shouldn't matter what is going on around me and I should focus on the words, but I've been at a loss for inspiration because I don't have the freedom to express myself. I'm a strange man it seems. I've been reminded of my faults. They are numerous and I know I must endeavour to work on them if I want a healthy relationship. blah blah blah...

Yesterday I had to take the car into the shop, a $450 repair coming up. The car is drivable, but it has issues that need attention. I had to do some creative accounting for Christmas this year. I'm all out of energy and my humor has been wittled away by the strangeness of life. I dare not write a poem, who the hell knows what would come out. Probably some illogical dark sentiments about how things suck. I could call it, "Life sucks and here is why." Whine! At least I know I'm whining. In all of this I miss writing as much as I'm complaining I shouldn't do it. It is in my words where I find the freedom to express myself. Over the past few months my relationship has caused me to doubt anything I say in fear of retribution. Unless it is at work, my carefree voice has been clipped, like the wings of a bird and has been grounded. I dare not say anything in case someone might take offense. Egads man, do you hear what I'm saying? What kind of life is this? And here I sit on Christmas Eve and write this drivel and wonder how I got myself in this situation and hope like hell I can get out of it.

me

2000 words into the story and I'm not sure what I have. This is where I need to drive through past the wall and write the stupid thing and then let everyone else tell me how good/bad it is. In fact I'm not so sure I can trust the internal editor sitting inside my head, because I'm not sure if he (he smokes these god-awful cigars) has the best interest for me or not. Nothing is ever good enough for him. Gee almost sounds like my dad.

I pulled up some other stories I thought were pretty good and tried to work on them, but nothing seemed to click. I realized how many incomplete things I have on my harddrive. So shut up and finish it and then decide. Okay...okay...Remember blog, everyone tells you how much you over think things. *sigh*

I might have an interview at a place in Orlando, Florida. That will throw a wrench into the monkey. hehe!

me

It seems I've walked into a hornets nest. This means I will get stung, because I've never been able to stay clear of the hornets and they always seem to find me. I'm resigned to it, so I fear little these days. Maybe that is the definition of maturity. I found a forum for writers like me and have agreed to write at least 7000 words a week. Yeah...er...uhm...oh boy that is a lot more than I'm doing right now. But that's good right? The point is to shut up and 'just do it'. I scanned the web looking for quotes about writing and many of them (from famous published writers) seem to be shut up and write. Get the story down without worrying about crap. That is what the rewriting is for. I'm trying to take it to heart. Might even put a web page on my site to follow my word count for the week, month and year (along with other members of the forum).

(0)

Soem time to actually put some thoughts down on electronic paper! Woo hoo! I'm bushed. I'm playing basketball twice a day Tues-Thursday for the past couple of weeks and I can tell I'm getting older, because my body takes longer to recover. I enjoy Wed. nights because I get out of the house and have an hour and a half before I play BB to write. The last couple of weeks I've taken a notebook (paper not computer) and wrote myself silly. Last week I wrote 3.5 pages and yesterday I got in 4 solid pages!

I'm not sure where the story is going to go, but the characters are taking shape in my head. I'm trying so hard to turn off my internal critic and write. I know if I start thinking about how good/bad it may or may not be, the story seems to fade and I lose interest. I believe that is another reason why I need to keep writing hard on it. Teach me the self-disclipine of writing through the editoral mood swings. Right now no one else will see it until I'm finished and I can change the heck out of it when ever I want too. When I'm done, then I can poo-poo it or brazen it as the next classic of literature (hehe). I guess I should hope for getting published at this point.

me

Monday blahs....I was busier this weekend than a one winged bee in a green house full of flowers! The end result is that I haven't gotten any new writing done since Thrusday morning. *sigh* And now the 'busy' part of the week is coming up. Tues-Thur (2x basketball and other events!). I'm hoping work will decrease so I can get some more quality time in. *grumble* I know if I really wanted to make it work I'd find the time. *sigh*

Okay well thought I'd check in and say hi to the web. Tomorrow is another day and I hope to report something much better then!

(0)

me

Oh boy am I tired. After running around all night and when I did get to bed, I tossed and turned, so sleep was as elusive as jock itch on a woman. Then I had to get up early, play bus driver and get to the gym where I ran myself ragged again. I'm getting to old for this shit. Heh. The good thing about this all is when I did have an hour of free time last night I was able to get some words down on paper. That always makes me feel good. I'm really behind at work, but I came in early and typed them into word. I think I might start using notebooks and writing things first. I don't get so caught up in spelling and grammar so I can let my thoughts flow.

(850)

me

Freakin' 23 degrees out and my weather pixie doesn't have a jacket on! Now I'm not complaining too much because she has a nice figure, but come on! It is cold!

Yesterday was terrible in many aspects of my life. I really don't wish to get into the details of it all, but it will rank as one of the worst in my life. But the day is behind me and today is a new day! Have you hugged your gremlin today?

Rant warning:
Movies have too many damn commercials in them! I pay $25 to go see a movie and I have to sit through SIX commercials? What the hell is up with that? It is bad enough movies have little originality. And they are same damn commericals I saw two months ago! *rolls eyes*

me

Not much to write about today. I'm going to have to put in some serious hours at work this week so I'm not going to get much done on the writing front unless I sneak some in. I fel like I'm hanging in until the blizzard comes and forces some changes in my life anyways. It has been hard to gear up with my writing. Excuses! But I've been through a lot of crap the last few months and although it is better (far from perfect) I find I only want to relax in the evenings. The enviroment I'm in at home has not been one where I feel comfortable to hang my words out into the wind. Oh well, I will do what I must to make it happen, just need to whine about it every now and again.

me

Thank goodness the weekend is over! I'm thinking the holidays this year are not going to be as cheery as one would hope for me, but that is a topic for another short-sided whining blog. This my firneds is where I'm supposed to whine or shout about my writing. Nothing new this weekend developed on this front, except for a one page short story I started. Quite strange in nature, but I didn't have the time to develop it any further than what I wrote. Funny thing is when I'm writing the subject/plot/characters seem interesting, but when I look back on it I am less than thrilled about the outcome. I need to turn that part of my brain off.

I wrote this strange thing about death. When people die their memories are saved onto film, but not everyone's memories are captured and they have to be reprocessed. Heh. Strange it was! Maybe I'll finish it for the fun of it just to see where my imagination would take it. I'm supposed to be working right now. I have to get this software fixed and back to the customer by next week and the projected time says we are going to be late. I'd rather be on the beach someplace, laptop plopped open and the only sound are the waves crashing in a nice melodic rhythm to help me focus on my next novel. See told you I have a great imagination!

me