How many faces do you wear?

two faces

I’ve been thinking about this topic for a while.  How many different faces does a person wear in his or her life?  This is similar to the different personalities one has in their lives.  Most of us have different personalities or faces when in public (walking on the street) vs. private (walking around your apartment or house).  Most of us have a different personality when it comes to how you act in your job vs. in your home.  The concept weighing on me is how can I bring my public and private life more in unison with each other so I can have less white or black and more grey.  Or if you would like me to state it another way, less red and yellow and more orange. 

The heart of the matter is that the face a person wears, it is really their face?  Or is it the face he or she perceives as what others want it to be and so wears it with some hesitancy?  Or it is a face that the person wears but has more characteristics of a mask as to hide something they are ashamed of or afraid of?  Or another option is the face might have been a mask for so long that it has turned into a face that feels so real, that he or she constructed, but really was not his or hers to begin with because some kind of brainwashing she or he allowed makes it feel and appear real inside and outside?

I see happening quite a bit lately.  I think a person needs to have at least a few different faces to wear so to speak.  It serves to protect that person and allows him or her the comforts that is necessary to survive.  I also think certain people use the different faces and masks to hide the truths before them whether it regards their physical, social, mental, emotional, and familial areas of their lives.  I’m not immune and recognize it wholeheartedly.  My life has been spent much of the time trying to strip away the layers that do not serve my highest purpose or good.  I’m fully aware that people are complex and varied.  The amount of complexity one possesses is as far as one is willing to take it, push it, stretch it, and make it his or her own. 

This goes hand in hand with eliminating the naysayers while still keeping an open mind and non reactive stance when there is criticism involved.  How does one disengage from gossip and drama when seems to be all around you?  How does one release this negative energy at the end of the day?  How does one relax enough before resting your head on your pillow so you are not up for two hours trying to get to sleep?  Balance is a definite must for people who are well rounded.  This doesn’t mean one hundred percent perfection every hour of the day because that doesn’t exist, but what does is the ability of all of us to include a variety of tasks in one day or one week that allows us some sense of accomplishment.  Yet, freedom within this week must also be sought as well.  If you change your mind not to do X on Tuesday, well then, SO BE IT.  Fill it with something else and if it means relaxing, SO BE IT.  This is what I’m learning to do for myself.  In essence, I’m learning to take care of myself better on my own terms, but always keeping in mind pro-activity and some activity is better than nothing and being a slug. 

Have a good night everyone and for those who have read some of my blogs or browsed my site, a huge thank you and a good week ahead for everyone.


The LA Chill


It is cold in LA.  Well, duh natives say or maybe it’s just me saying it to myself.  It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.  I used to live in a place that could get to -20 and that was just the air temperature.  I worked on my blog until 2 in the morning (Saturday night).  I was not able to get to sleep due to my feet cold and achy muscles due to weightlifting a few days ago.  On top of that, my sinuses have been taking my head and eyes hostage.  My eyes don’t see right and as I look at the screen right now it is a little blurry.  The thing is it took me two hours to fall asleep and then I didn’t get a good night’s rest.  I woke up with guess what?  Cold feet.  They still are cold.  I’m about to stick them in a pot of hot water although a shower seems to be the better choice.  I never thought I would be this chilly living in LA when I moved here in late 2006.  So much for stereotypes because I learned a long time ago that “sunny California” does not exist all the time especially right now.  Good thing I can always put on my partly wool socks and whatever else material used to warm up my feet. 

Excerpts from two stories I’m currently writing and rewriting

Excerpt from Jagged Korean Lines

korean flag

     Hae Won was born in the late 1960s in the second largest city.  It was once controlled by the North Koreans when they tried to overtake the nation to make it fully Communism.  Her father had done his part to help the South Koreans by feeding the soldiers during the war.  This had made her father proud to be born and raised in this fishing port city despite the poor living conditions he was raised in and lived in currently.  His good deeds during the war was one of the few things he spoke of incessantly to his children.  There were four of them: Dak Ho, age ten, Hae Won, age nine, Kyung Soon, age two, and Chin Hwa, age six months.
     Up until the very end of their time together, Hae Won regarded her father as someone to be loved and feared.  She wanted him to protect her from all things dangerous, but instead it was her mother who took on this vital role.  Her mother was the one who gave her the foundation to stand on some thirty-five years later, long after her father was absent from her life.  Her mother was the one she felt most connected with spiritually and mentally.  They were the most like-minded out of all the family members.  This deep connection brought on bigger responsibilities even though Dak Ho was a year older than her and a male. She took great pride in the fact her mother regarded her at the child to go to when things needed to get done especially during situations where thinking quick on your feet was warranted.  One second meant the difference between being in trouble versus being in a whole lot of trouble.  Her mother did not need to tell her this as she had plenty of experience.  
     She knew what the look her mother gave her weeks prior meant while eating dinner.  It was a bittersweet glance she gave her.  It tore Hae Won’s heart open a little bit, but she quickly patched it up with a smile.  They ate heartily that night.  They had feasted on foods most Koreans ate every night, but because of their financial situation, the fish and pork had become a rare occurrence for them.  They savored every bite of it on this particular night.  They did a lot of things out of the ordinary too. Their guard was still intact, but their protective walls were knocked down enough for them to laugh at heartfelt stories by Dak Ho and bad jokes by Kyung Soon.  As food disappeared from their plates and settled into their stomachs, reality pulled back Hae Won and her mother.  No one else knew about their plan except them.  They verbally rehearsed the timing of each action for everything to go as planned when her father and siblings were not present earlier in that day.
     This night would hold the most risk from all the other nights combined.  She must not fail or else there would consequences not even she wanted to entertain.  As she picked at the white rice in her bowl, now all alone, she hardly tasted its flavor as it went into her mouth and down her throat.  It only made the knots in her stomach grow larger and remind her the importance of what she must do.  Her successful completion of rescuing her baby sister was her mother’s dying wish.  There had been so much heartache already.  She could not bear anymore.  She had to honor her protector.  Her mother spoke to her in silence.  Hae Won solemnly nodded and whispered words of encouragement to herself as she prolonged her gaze at the wall.
     Hae Won father’s temperament recently had been withdrawn and his early drinking that night made him pass out shortly around nine.  She needed him to retire to his bedroom for the plan to work.  Her wish came true when he woke up to smoke a cigarette, drink another beer, and stumble into his bedroom where he passed out around nine forty-five.  She waited thirty minutes before leaving her bedroom.  If her father did not get up in thirty minutes, he more than likely would sleep through the night.  There had been only a few nights where he woke up looking for trouble.  She prayed tonight was not one of those.  
     The moon was at its fullest and brightest when she looked out the window.  She held her breath as she shook her younger sister awake.  She was ready to cover Kyung Soon’s mouth if she spoke, but did not have to as she was half asleep during the dressing stage.  The thought of her being a deep sleeper made her smile.  There was not much her younger sister would wake up to until she was good and ready.  You could not force her to do something.  She beat to her own drum.  She walked to her own pace.  She would miss this about her.  Yet, this reminded her of someone, and that person was their father, and because of this it had worried their mother.  She did not outright state this apprehension, but sometimes it flickered here and there with a tap of her fingers or scrunching of her face when Kyung Soon demanded something.  Hae Won put this out of her mind as she dragged her younger sister by the hand across the room with a tattered cotton bag slung over her shoulder.
     She composed herself at the door and listened.  She heard her father’s snoring.  It was loud and gravelly.  It would take a dump truck to wake him, but he had the uncanny ability to wake up at the slightest noise, so when he stopped snoring her heart skipped a beat.  She took a hesitant step when  he resumed his snoring, and held her breath again when she passed her father’s door.  It was now only a few paces from her parents’ bedroom to the front door, but tonight it seemed a football field length’s away.  They tiptoed as quietly as the wooden floor allowed.  Once at the front door, she shook Kyung Soon.  She half-opened her eyes and closed them again.  Hae Won was about to say something like, we are leaving now, but decided against it.  Her younger sister would get the point eventually that she was not going to carry her once outside.  She dared not look back toward her parents’ bedroom, but envisioned her mother waving encouragement to her.  She swallowed hard and held back tears.  The only thing she wanted was her mother at her side and to feel safe.  She repeated her mother’s mantra under her breath.  You are strong.  You can do this.  You have all the faith within you.  You are the right choice.  Now go do what you have to do. 
     The bag dangled from her wrist.  She thought briefly how much of a nuisance it would be on the journey.  The bag remained where it was, uncomfortable and cramping her forearm, as she was afraid to adjust it at the moment.  She pressed onward. Placing her hand gently on the front door handle, it was difficult to turn with her sweaty palm.  She smelled the outside air.  Damn the mugginess out here, she thought, as well as what she was leaving behind.  The new life she hoped to have made her uneasy and excited at the same time.  With great intention she had opened the front door, and with equal purpose she closed it behind her.  
     It was outside her younger sister decided to assault her with questions.  “What are we outside for?  I wanna sleep.  Why you carrying a bag?  I’m sleepy.  Where are we going?  I’m tired.  I wanna sleep.”  Hae Won had to be careful to not let her sister know what was happening or else the journey would not be taking place.  Known as the most inquisitive and stubborn sibling, she told her with emphasis, “you need to listen to me now more than ever now.  We need to get away from here as quick as possible.  I can’t explain it right now, but I will when we are safe.”  Her younger sister nodded and did as she was told.
     Hae Won gauged an hour had passed based on the fact there wasn’t any feeling in her arms.  She could not know for sure but decided either way it was a good time to take a break. She plopped down and removed a water bottle from her bag. She was so thirsty but took a small sip as this water had to last her quite a while.  She handed it to Kyung Soon who also took a small sip, then asked, “Where are we going?” Her thoughts went from her younger sister to her mother to her father to what would happen if they didn’t make it to what would happen if her father found out they were gone.  Maybe, he was giving chase right now.  This reality made her look in all directions.  He was no where in sight.  The thought still unnerved her and scrambled to her feet, grabbed Kyung Soon’s hand, and darted off with renewed energy, dragging her younger sister behind her.  
     It was during the second break she was able to answer her younger sister’s questions.  “I’m doing this so no one will hurt you.”  There was enough space in between them and their father.  He probably wouldn’t find them if he were looking. She continued.  “You remember what I told you about mother? She wanted me to keep you safe.  This is why we had to leave. This is why I’m carrying this bag.  To keep you safe.”  She knew she was three-quarters to the police station, but there were still dangers.  They for sure would bring them back home if they were discovered.  The thought of returning made her shudder. Kyung Soon asked, “safe from father?”  A wave of fear moved throughout her body when she thought of what her father would do to her the second the police left.  She again looked in all directions for him.  Hae Won uttered, “yes, safe from father.”  
     The chill still remained inside her as they made their way to the police station. She had brought food with her to last a few days after she had fulfilled her mother’s promise, but it was her luck a stray dog appeared looking for a handout.  She tried to get the dog to leave, but it kept coming back. It would get close: twenty feet, fifteen, ten, five, but dart off when she moved toward it.  She eventually threw a bit of her food and called it stupid as it devoured the rice.  It continued to beg.  She yelled, “that’s all I have, go away, and don’t follow me.”  The dog half obeyed.  After a while, it chased after her, keeping its distance so she could not see it.  The dog saw and heard everything she saw and heard: cars zooming by, empty buildings, street lights, insects buzzing around, and random people here and there.  A dog is a dog and when it barked, Hae Won whipped around to see it chasing something down the sidewalk, opposite of where she was going.  Good riddance, she thought. 
     Pain stabbed the length of her arm from shoulder to fingers while her legs were rubbery and was sure the blisters on her feet were bleeding when she reached the police station steps. There was time for tending to her physical wounds later.  The sun would be appearing soon and darkness would no longer be able to hide them. She removed the blanket from her bag and wrapped it around her exhausted younger sister.  She instructed her to use her legs as a pillow and stroked her hair as her younger sister fell asleep.  She removed a note from her bag and tucked it under the blanket.  She stood up carefully not to wake up Kyung Soon and kissed her the last time.  She whispered, “I will never forget you.  I will always love you. You will be my younger sister forever.”  
     She did not know exactly where she would go after the journey, but her exhausted body took her in the direction not intended.  She stopped in her tracks.  Her legs buckled and her knees landed hard on the concrete.  The pain radiated through her legs.  Her arms raised into the air as she screamed, then brought her fists down hard.  Pain radiated into her hands and then up her arms.  She pounded the concrete again, and again, and again until her hands were bloody. Tears flooded her eyes and dripped off her nose as she stood on wobbly legs.  She unclenched her bloody fists.  She had fulfilled her duty, but she was not sticking to the plan.
     Time was again important to her and noticed the same homeless dog staring at her.  She threw the remaining food at the dog despite being hungry.  It devoured it without hardly a bite.  She took a long drink of water and left the rest in a littered cup for the dog.  After the generous handout, the dog barked as if to say, thank you, and ran off, leaving Hae Won alone again.  She stood there knowing the plan was worthless now without food and water.  She scurried home as fast as her tired and broken body allowed her.  She knew the punishment was inevitable and tried hard not to think of it, but every second counted when it came to her father.  She could not get the words her mother told her out of her memory soon after Chin Hwa was born.  You must stop him at all costs.
Excerpt from The Forever Stairs 


        It was not much past eight at night, but it may as well have been nearing midnight. There was not much light inside the empty apartment complex. The light bulbs that had once been hanging by yarn from the ceiling were either broken or burnt out.  Yila had walked down these halls not too long ago, shortly after she had given birth to her daughter. She had been hired to clean the common areas and took to wiping the walls with great precision back then. She acted as if she was cleaning a building that held importance instead of one that soon would be condemned. The owner had the building for a long time and had ignored his tenants’ requests to improve their living situations. Over a short period of time, there were not many people living at the complex anymore, and this made her job obsolete, even though it hardly paid.
       She would have given anything to have one of those rags in her hand at this moment, in the hopes it would take her mind off of the current events. She did not think she would ever set foot in this building again, but here she was with shaking hands, going down these wooden stairs, creaking each time she took a step. She gripped the handrail tighter, hoping this would stop her hands from shaking. It did little to steady herself and found her knees weakening until she was unable to move her legs at all.
       She was barely able to hold herself up, and when she thought of what had recently happened, her body wilted into a heap on one of the steps. The enormity of what she had lost loomed over her like an invisible cloud. She breathed in deeply and exhaled deeper, in the hopes this would prevent her from bursting into tears. Her face tightened, holding back tears as best she could, but a few made its pathway down her cheek. She pawed at her cheek, wiping them away. She remained on the step, her buttocks planted firmly on the wood, as if she was meant to be there permanently.
       As she tried to compose herself, the thought of never seeing Laurence sent her hands over her face, and she broke into an uncontrollable sob. The reality was so unbearable that she choked on her pain. Her hyperventilating lasted for a few moments until her mind focused on something else, her daughter.  She had to be strong for Yanyu.  She focused her watery eyes and could barely make out the front door. She chose to pay attention to its edges. Once I get to the door, I will be okay, she thought. I only need to take one step at a time. I can be strong. I have no other choice.
       She stood, wiped her face, and made her way down the stairs. She was making good progress, but her accomplishment held less importance when the image of Laurence’s face entered her mind again. This time, instead of feeling sorrow, she felt regret. She had wanted to tell him so much more as he stood before her moments ago. He had been looking for honesty, and all she could give him was lies. She glanced behind her, as if maybe he was still in the empty room upstairs, even though she had watched him leave.
        Her footsteps became sluggish for the remaining descent. This would be the last time she would be close to him. He had been adamant he did not want to see her ever again. His cologne still lingered in the air, and wished she could take a piece of his scent with her. 
       She was now at the bottom step and rested her hand on the doorknob in a kind of bittersweet farewell. She whispered even though no one was there. “I should have told you I loved you, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”  
        She did not see him in the shadows. He had listened to her walk her deliberate steps, heard her every cry, and knew what she was thinking during her every footfall. He knew her better than she knew herself. He had tried over the weeks to convince her of his love, but she had retreated to where they had previously been when they first met. He waffled between letting her go forever or trying one more time to get through to her. He had told himself many times that he was strong enough without her, but it was complete foolishness because when she was not with him, he became a fragile and afflicted man unable to sleep well at night or think hardly during the day.
        He came to the conclusion that regardless of how she felt he could not let her leave without saying a proper goodbye. A part of him hoped there was still a place within her heart, as even the tiniest of spots would have been sufficient at this juncture. He needed only a small amount of space to strike a match and create the spark between them again; and after hearing her say those words, he was convinced the fire between them had never burned out.
       As her hand twisted the knob, his arm extended out of the shadows. When his hand rested over hers, she did not recoil as he thought. Maybe, she knew he was still there, but either way the situation remained in front of them. She gave no indication of how she felt at the moment, and as she stood there, her heart-beat pounding quicker by the second, it became clear to Laurence another piece of her defense had softened. He leaned closer to her, his lips grazing her ear lobe, and whispered, “It always matters.”

Re-post from Kristin Lamb’s Blog

It doesn’t matter if we strive to have a healthy marriage, strong kids or a killer career, these tenets cross-apply to all areas of life. Mental toughness is a key component to being successful. Yes, even for writers.

via 13 Things Mentally Strong Writers Don’t Do — Kristen Lamb’s Blog

Re-post from G.L. Cromarty

Some writers (A) are very open about putting people they know in their book, whether it is revenge (never be mean to a writer), or for less nefarious reasons (I admire you, I love you, I like you, you are fun, you are interesting). Some writers (B) deny all, even vague, linkage between real people and the […]

via Do writers really put you in their books? #amwriting #writing — G.L. Cromarty

Poem: Yellow Bird


If a bird landed on my shoulder, what color would it be?  And what would he do? 
It might defecate on my new white crispy shirt from my favorite brand name store. 
It could stand on one foot attached to a spindly leg, then the other as if life were only a game to him.
But when he appeared, he did neither.
Instead, took one glance at my eye wear resting ever so peacefully on my nose
And then tried to lift the frames off my ears, hopping from one side to the next.
This continued much to my mixture of delight and slight irritation until I was consumed with irritation alone. 
I made limited contact with his frenetic body after a few misses. 
I concluded with a purposeful swat to his body. 
Quite stunned by what I had done, he collected himself and flew away. 
I blurted rather loudly, “good riddance,” and went along my intended path.
But when I turned my head to make sure he was gone, he was about twenty five feet away
And flying towards me with his wings flapping in a state of what appeared to be sheer panic or rage. 
Maybe, this yellow bird has something to tell me. 
“That can’t be,” I said with emphasis.   Birds can’t talk.  Sure, they can chirp.  But talk to a human being? 
Absolutely not!
I turned back, hoping I would only see a dot in the sky,
With thoughts of what my body must do and my mind should release from the past week. 
It was no such luck because he was still there, only closer.
And as I continued onto the next physical destination,
My mind clearly was not in sync with the next task before me.  
I was flustered from head to toe and beyond.
If only there were repeats in one’s lifetime.
If another bird landed on my shoulder, would the color be different? 
Would he be a she this time? 
Would she peck my eye out? 
Females tend to be more aggressive than males or what I noticed as of late. 
Would she take something away?  And not return it back? 
Would she return it to me in a million broken pieces? 
Would she succeed?
The bird, at hand, must be paid attention to instead of wondering about hypotheticals. 
The future may hold many possibilities but not currently. 
I straightened up as much as my crippled back allowed, and
Prepared for another duel with this stinking yellow bird.


Old Reflections of a Writer

I wrote this in December 2015.  I am not the same person.  I am in other ways.  Cheers everyone.
The last few weeks I have been giving EL James’ books much thought. I have not read any of them, but the few pages I have read online did not have much content. I wonder does she care that people including established writers think she is a terrible writer. She probably does not given she is worth 80 million dollars (net worth) and was able to do what few are able to do. She has amassed much wealth that I can only dream of in the writing world. Maybe, it is jealousy of other writers for this backlash. Yet, in all honesty, she has broken some cardinal rules writers should never do, at least when it comes to sex scenes. Then again, rules are meant to be broken at times. It works for some. She was one of them.
I have lived much of my life with so much inner turmoil. It would make the average head spin in circles infinity because it has made my head spin in circles as well. My head still spins at a rapid pace. This has also allowed me to access my emotions, raw and pure, which is what you need as a writer. By no means, am I well versed in the writing process as say Stephen King who continues to baffle my mind from a creative perspective, but I do know some stuff.
As the days pass by and weeks turn into months, I hope the next ten years of my life are filled with progress I expect of myself and drive I utilize for the best possible outcome. Yes, the four books I need and have to write has turned into five more, totaling nine books, and now that I have gone back to my original goal, it is fourteen total books that I hope to write. My alarm clock nears one o’clock, and I sit here writing about something that few people want to hear or will probably read. I guess this is more for me than for you. I guess this is a little reminder for me not focus on other writers, successful and struggling, and keep the eye on my own prize.
After I finish the majority of books I want to write, then maybe I will write a book along the lines of EL James. Maybe, I should write this book after I am done with my current book. Maybe, I should not listen to my gut and not follow my heart. Maybe, I should weave all over the damn place and not stick to the spine of the story. Maybe, my desire to be published will become a reality. The million dollar question is will I be able to live with myself if I do this? Will I be straying from my true self?
I am more lost than ever in my life when it comes to my purpose and worth. The possibilities and turmoil within myself never ends. The universe does not open its doors just because you want it to open. The world does not revolve around your platform. Wishful thinking never works, at least not in my life. Personal and family past mistakes still are a part of me. I try to live in the present as much as possible. I am thankful for air in my lungs every day. Life is truly what you make of it and coasting by is not a part of my vocabulary. I retire for the night, keeping the end goal always in sight, but focusing more on the little steps one needs to take in order to reap the large reward after the road has been trampled on, ripped up, patched up, and hopefully still in tact to be the gateway to another adventure.


February 25, 2017 Blogs

Got Time to Spare?!

No complaints because I’d rather have too much to do than too little.  The last two weeks have been hectic on many fronts, but the fact I have been able to maneuver through it is a big accomplishment for me.  I’m learning to compromise in areas of my life so others can take precedence.  I’m learning to flow more like water in my daily life instead of rocks propelling forward at a fast pace as if they were kicked by angry shoes.  There is a lot left for me to do, but in the meantime this will have to suffice.  Thank you to myself for writing this. Thank you to myself for learning to take one day at a time.

Who’s Ready?!


The political atmosphere is complicated as it has ever been for Democrats, Republicans, Independents, and everyone else in between or around these major political parties.  Most of us recognize there is trouble within the Democratic and Republican party.  Bipartisan may as well not even exist in the dictionary right now.  

One month of the Trump administration has gone by and it feels like a year’s time with everything going on; and ask was I that aloof during the Bush era?   Was I living under a rock?  Did I just not give a crap back then?  I don’t think so because I didn’t vote for him either time.  Bush even admitted some of his faults and poor decisions made during his eight years. This is the difference between him and the current president.

I hope in the remaining time left, which to me seems like a century, that the parties can work together for the working class people, but my hopes are not so high.  I am doing more personal focus right now and the reasons likely due to my midlife crisis although it seems I’ve been in one my whole life.  I’m not one to put on blinders to reality, but hope 2020 doesn’t end up worse than 2016 or 2017.  The bottom line is Washington D.C. politicians are not acting like mature adults, and hope this changes soon.


February 2, 2017 Blog

Topic: Planet Earth, Animals, and Responsibility


I like most living creatures, but I have been known to kill spiders and cockroaches if I find them in my apartment. I luckily have not found either one as of late. There was a time when I had a mouse run past me on the floor when I first moved to Los Angeles ten years ago. I had Odyssey at the time, my Harlequin rabbit, and we both looked at it as it scooted past us on all fours. His nickname was Oddball. He died in 2012 and can’t believe he has been gone this long.
I came across the Lli Pika in a picture taken by National Geographic, named after the person who discovered it in China. This is a mountain dwelling mammal and is found in the Tianshan Mountains. It is quite rare and has only been seen a few times. It is related to the rabbit and hare, which yes, are two different lagomorphs. There are so many rare animals needing conservation and protection of their habitats. It makes me sad knowing many animals will at some point not be able to sustain themselves because humans keep taking away their homes.
I firmly believe humans must act in ways to preserve the Earth for future generations. It is not enough to have the mindset of the next generation will deal with it or worse not recognizing ecological concerns. We must right our wrongs in this lifetime as much as possible. If our ancestors did this, maybe the current situation of global warming and other ecological dangers would not be hitting us in the face as hard. The hand is big and the consequences bigger. The effects are felt personally and socially. As some have said before, one cannot eat money when they are hungry.
A government cannot force a family to live a certain way or eat from a certain food group (to an extent). Yet, countries wield a lot of power such as China. If they enacted strict laws regarding ivory trade, the peril of elephant poaching would become more than likely become a thing of the past. I’m not sure why there has been disconnect about protecting wildlife and why some circles are hell bent on destroying entire animal populations.   It saddens me knowing many species will not exist twenty or fifty years from now.
There is responsibility when it comes to domesticated animals. We should not buy or adopt dogs or cats or the many choices to choose from when finances are not there to take care of them in the long run.   They don’t need to be pampered with catered meals, but they do need to eat decent food along the way for nutrition and have clean water to drink. One simply does not buy or adopt an animal if you are not committed to that animal for, at least, ten years. I do my best with my limited means, but applaud those with greater financial resources who promote the well being of planet Earth.   With this in mind, time to recycle my bottles and cans.


January Blogs

January is the Month and 2017 is the Year


My sanity within this month has swung to the far right and to the far left with everything political and personal occurring.  I’m a year older and still working on my life long goals as I have the past ten years.  I have made many strides but not enough to feel as if I broke through the barrier.  January is almost finished and in essence only took down a few bricks here and there on the many areas I focus on at a given time. If I could get one thing done on my list, maybe I might get minor relief. The thing to remember is any forward motion, no matter how small is better than nothing.  I focus on this and the small changes one can make each month.
Lately, I go to work and watch MSNBC after I arrive home or work out by jogging and weightlifting.  My hope is that things turn around within the Trump presidency, but he has much to convince me his statements are sincere and true.  Some believe disagreeing with Trump means you are un-American or un-patriotic, which I view as highly flawed.  This last thought has been on my mind within the last few days, and yes, it bothered me.  The country is divided among liberals and conservatives as well as within liberals (Clinton vs. Bernie) and conservatives (Trump vs. Republicans).
I understand this similar to saying clouds fill the sky.  The obvious is there, but getting workable answers beyond it is the hard part.  I did not participate in one of the many rallies and marches today, but I thank everyone who did participate.   My hope is everyone finds improvement within her/himself, peace in her/his surroundings, and courage to speak her/his mind in a respectful manner.  When I get too involved in one phenomenon happening, I try to restructure the platform on which I stand to gain better perspective within myself and others.  On that note, the Earth is a powerful entity.  Humans do not own it.  Try to treat each other better than you did yesterday.  Okay, off my soapbox so goodnight .
Happy New Year or Cockadoodledoo!!!!!!!


I am a type of person who, as of late, done much thinking about her past, present, and future.  There are times I crumble within myself at the thought of the next forty years in my life.  Will it be the same way as it is currently?  God, I hope not.  It isn’t that I’m not grateful for what I have including family and select friends I trust and rely on, but sometimes just holding this gratitude in your heart and mind is not enough when reality hits you in face from all sides.  I have made many errors in my life, and realize I am not special when it comes to humans being human beings where the good and bad both occur.  The thing is sometimes I feel as if the garbage truck didn’t just dump everything on my head throughout this year, but also managed to stick me back into the garbage can at the end.  No one likes someone who feels sorry for themselves and can’t pick themselves up by the bootstraps, but I don’t own a pair of boots so sometimes there is not anything to grab.  I am not as strong as I’d like to be in many respects, and in others I wish I could be a little less forceful and perceived as caring.  I have been described as a gentle person who just is covered by so much armor from all the awareness of my surroundings and events that happened way back in my past.  As in George R.R. Martin’s books, there was a period before Aegon’s Conquest and definitely a period after it.  I suppose there was a period in my life before my Biological Father and a time after it because I’m still living and breathing.  There are times I wear my heart on my sleeve and wish I could reign in it a little more, but it is who I am and no one knows one better than his or herself, or at least, I hope this is more the case than not.  It probably is a good thing I started this blog as suggested by someone I consider a mentor.  I know about loss of freedom in the prison sense since I used to work there, but how many other freedoms do people feel they lost or are out of reach?  I bring it back to the winding down of the current year and start of the new one.   Many of these blogs entries will be unstructured where I will type as if I have diarrhea of the fingers and mind because I need another outlet from my structured writing and rewriting of my novel ideas.  It has not been lost of me that many are suffering and worse off than me.  I hope to not be in their shoes, but I’ve had my share of great suffering.  As I move further along my life path, away from my Biological Father and the pressures I put upon myself, I know that freedom to move around at my own free will is one of the best things around.  Yet, everything else I desire would also be nice, but I will think about this in 2017.   Happy New Year everyone!



%d bloggers like this: