Or an error in judgment. Me thinking I was going to live forever. Me, thinking my body was going to remain in its current state. Somehow, I believed I was tougher than I am. I remember making fun of the older generation when I was younger, saying stupid things like, “That will never be me!” In some ways, I was correct, and in others, I was utterly wrong. It turns out I am worse. Some of those folks are still around. They look at me with those tired eyes that have seen far too much. Yet, there is an understanding behind them. This understanding, a nod, and a slight smile welcomed me to a group I never thought I deserved to be a member of.
Here we are, three weeks into it. My life changed forever. I have to make some adjustments in how I do things. That ought to be fun. I have new prescriptions, new doctors, and new challenges. I never much thought about dying. I figured it was one of those things that came in the night without warning. You know, the reaper sneaking up on you because he was too much of a punk to face you head-on. Turns out the reaper is no punk.
So, this evening, I sit writing about the madness I’m in the middle of. I’m thinking about how foolish I’ve been. I’m thinking about how it began as a mistake. How I wish I could tell my parents, I got it. It makes sense now. I just hope they read my blog wherever they are. I’m thinking about how I had my whole life to prepare for this moment and why aren’t I ready? Yeah, the shit just got real!
The sun has set, signaling the end of a wonderous day. Nothing particular happened, but it just felt good all around. In the spirit of this, let’s speak plainly and talk about this prompt. Let me remove my mask for a while, just to prove to myself I’m human after all. Regarding this prompt, I am trying to understand why I blog—at least, not a hard, fast answer. One I say with any confidence of its truth because it’s complicated.
So come on in and have a seat. I have a lot to say, but I’ll hurry every chance I get. Welcome to the regions of my mind. A hideaway, if you will. Don’t mind the skulls; there are totems of my former glory long past. This blog, at least a version of it, has been around for over a decade. I know it’s hard to imagine it’s been that long, and I created it. However, two things occurred which has changed this blog forever.
I had decided to get writing publicly last year but took my time pulling the trigger. My lady requested I increase my online presence, which I agreed to only to end the conversation. I figured my success would be fleeting. I explained this absurd request to my longtime editor, and she agreed with my lady. “What will it hurt? she said, or some madness close to that. So, I started posting. I received more traffic in the first thirty days than in the previous decade.
Despite this success, I wasn’t convinced I had what it took to grow and maintain an audience. I spend a ridiculous amount of time figuring out the magic formula to make a blog popular. My number kept climbing, but I still worried about the stats obsessively. I had to quantify my efforts. I sat at my desk saying WTF am I doing wrong? The answer was the simplest one I’ve answered all year. It’s shameful when I think about it, how it sat there in front of me the entire time. I kept looking every place else for what I needed; instead, where I needed to look.
If you are a fraud or don’t believe in what you are writing, it comes through in the writing. So, I took a step back and started writing what I knew: pain and turmoil. Some of you might remember it was a gut-wrenching couple of weeks. This blog is a place where I get to face my demons head-on. I slay them at times; at others, they slew me. However, each time, I continue to fight. I don’t know any other way. It was how I was raised; I see no fault in it.
So, here we are then, you and I, faithful readers, your support is greatly appreciated. You have done more for me than any pill or therapy session. Here, I dive into the darkness of myself, my monster, and come right along with me. Such brave souls. The cool stuff, the part that’s the shit, Is you allow me to read you. I get a glimpse of the world through your eyes.
I often wondered: With the world as big as it is, why do we insist on living it so small? As I sat formulating this very sentence I’m typing, my eyes were closed momentarily, and a smile crept across my face while thinking of the countries I’ve read today. It’s staggering, to say the least. Each picture, word, sentence, meme, or prayer has the potential to touch so many. It may be the thing that makes the difference in someone’s life, and you have no way of knowing. That’s okay.
We tell our stories and strengthen the people we touch. I’m sorry, folks, that’s some beautiful shit, and I got to be a part of that. I had no idea it was going to be like this …
My Lady and My Editor might be geniuses … for real!
If you won two free plane tickets, where would you go?
PROSE – CHALLENGE
I’ve mentioned before I hardly take any time off. When, I do I typically don’t go anywhere. I sit at home and get lost in the pages of a good book. Yet the idea of winning tickets to go anywhere is tempting. Immediately, the old song of Eddie Money pops into my mind.
This shouldn’t be a difficult question, but as I consider a response to this daily prompt, the difficulty has begun to rear its ugly head. The three-eyed gnarly creature and its rotten tooth cousin doubt fester, making me weak and powerless. Yet, desperately, I wage war against myself to write the whispering verses I hear throughout most days. But I’m more than a little curious about how this post will end.
The Night has come. I close my eyes and envision the stories the words have whispered throughout the day. I sway to the waves of darkness. My lips moistened by “the ballad of stillness.” as I await its return. Writing is what I’m here for. Writing is what I crave. I write to claim the sanity that is mine.
I feel my monster stirring, preparing to drag me down another hole. Can someone feed this monster while I string the words together as I rapidly approach the bottom? Our blades are drawn, my katana versus his scimitar. Our swords clang as they slice the air. Each wound releases our demons. Demons, we don’t want to know. Yet, we ignore the pain, the truth, and smile.
The monster whispers, “Help me if you can?”
“Kick rocks!” I reply
The monster pleads, “Write me a lullaby.”
Let me ask you a question? Has anyone ever seen a monster pout? He even had his bottom shot out. That crusty, gnarled-up thang. Definitely, not a good look. Because I’m a dick, I sang an enthusiastic rendition of Drowning Pool’s “Tear Away.”
You know this bastard had the nerve to weep? When did crying monsters become a thing? Soft-ass monsters? That’s some bullshit! I going to need his bitch ass to get it together. Without him haunting me, driving me further into the bowls of madness. I will burn all my journals, for I won’t confess anymore. I can no longer bury my secrets in shame. This is where I draw the line.
Wait, the dawn is coming. This whiny asshat has kept me up all night. Is this my future? Is my journey to sanity haunting me? For my monster is sleeping. My body, my spirit, awaits the caress of Slumber. I slip into her arms and surrender. To be soothed, even if it’s for a short while. This is my favorite part of the day . I sleep as the world awakens. For a few hours, I bask in the nature of daylight. …its 5 am
The thing I love about my neighborhood is the sense of community. Everyone is struggling in one way or another, but somehow, we come together in times of need. Today, I witnessed a local church hand out school supplies to its members.
Sometimes, out of nowhere, things like this happen.
Now, I’m the only one who’s plays rock & roll in my neighborhood, but the sentiment is sound.
What could you let go of, for the sake of harmony?
PROSE – RANDOM THOUGHT/ DAILY PROMPT
I constantly think the monster I reside within is in control of every decision I make. I’m aware this doesn’t make sense to most, but I will my best to have make sense. Before I’ve blogged about being my monster’s prisoner. However, in that post, I wasn’t exactly truthful. I didn’t exactly tell it straight. I played with words rearranged them for the sake of cleverness or for the sake of attempting of being cool.
The truth can be the hardest hammer known. Or touch with the gentliest touch. The gentle touch, part is something I read about somewhere. I’d would like to think it exists, but unfortunately it hasn’t been my experience.
Today, I realized something about myself. Accepting the truth of is one of the most painful things I’ve experinced in awhile. I’d like to walk upon a Djinn, so they could grant me three wishes. However, I only need one. I’d wish I could someone worthy of respect and be treated with dignity.
Yet, I know it. doesn’t work that way. I can’t rid of my monster side. Nor, can I even hid it. For it’s all that I am. I would gladly surrender it for the sake of harmony
It’s sometimes hard to come up with one name. To narrow down contributions to humanity to a single name. I have categories where people of history fell into. It’s an organizational thing, something I picked up from watching Sesame Street.
This is where it started. Now everything is a category. So to answer this question without driving myself completely crazy, I’ve chosen the writing category. Now my favorite across all forms, genres, and types of writing is Gwendolyn Brooks.
There is something about taking a drive. A full tank of gas packed lunch, and your camera and notebook. It’s a sense of freedom; at least, that’s the phrase I’ll use as I sit here talking to you. I suppose it’s as good as any, to really explain this feeling I get when taking a drive. It’s a chance to explore, clear your mind, and, just for a moment, set aside the stresses of everyday life. And having your camera and notebook with you allows you to capture the magic.
There’s no better way to appreciate the beauty of nature and the world around you than to take a leisurely drive, at least I don’t know if any. Maybe one or two others come to mind if I think on it a spell. But, nothing beats a drive. Whether through winding country roads, along the coast, or through the mountains, a scenic drive can be a truly unforgettable experience. Let us not forget, a drive through the city after dark. Another side of life seems to come alive in the night; after dark. One must be careful you may see things you may never have known existed.
But it’s not just about the destination; it’s also about the journey. Taking a drive can be a chance to reflect on your life, think about your goals and dreams, and enjoy the present moment. It’s a form of self-care that can help reduce stress, improve your mood, and boost your creativity.
In fact, many writers, artists, and photographers have used driving to inspire their work. The freedom of the open road allows them to escape the distractions of everyday life and focus on their craft. And with a camera and notebook, they can capture their thoughts and ideas as they come to them.
But even if you’re not a writer or artist, taking a drive can still be a valuable experience. It’s a chance to unplug from technology, connect with nature, and appreciate the simple pleasures in life. And with the flexibility of driving, you can make the experience your own. You can stop at a roadside diner for a classic burger and fries, take a detour to visit a local attraction, or simply park by a scenic overlook and watch the world go by.
So next time you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed, why not take a drive and see where the road takes you? You never know what new experiences, sights, and insights you may discover. Perhaps, a fond memory or recollection will be unlocked evoking a smile.
Snowball fights and Snow Angels playing for hours, we never seemed to get tired. Never seemed to get cold. Our mothers told us to come inside and warm up.
There’s something about the winter
There’s a stillness that comes in the winter night the sir is crisp, it’s chill prickly Yet, there’s a peacefulness in the hush though we not know what lurks in the dark.
I wasn’t exactly sure what taglines meant. I looked it up and discovered it means catchphrase or slogan. Huh, ain’t that something.
So I asked a few friends what they would consider to be my catchphrase. Of course, when you involve humans everything becomes more complicated than it needs to be. After, listening to them chuckle to countless number of catchphrases I subject to blurt out at any moment. I decided I needed to change the question.
If you were eulogizing me, what phrase could you say that everyone would recognize?
Instantly, everyone I asked this question had the same answer. This confused me, surely I figured I would a bit of variety, right? Nope, they had the same answer. They also said it wasn’t so much what I had to say, but how I said it. It was even suggested that I write out my facial expressions so people could get a visual on the effects.
the number friend response is …
Kick Rocks!
I considered their response and asked, “Ahh, come again?”
I’ve spent most of my life conquering fear; at least, I thought so. As a child, we are taught to be tough and not be afraid of anything.
“Are you chicken?”
“What you yella?
Phrases like these quickly appear in my memory when I think of fear. I remember I wanted to be brave, strong, and courageous. For the most part, I feel I accomplished it on some level. I followed the rules and worked hard, volunteering for every crappy assignment to prove to myself and those around me that I feared nothing. Unwittingly, I was actually making a fool of myself. My friends and superiors felt my actions were to curry favor, not prove my courage.
One day in the barracks, I discovered this when I overheard some soldiers discussing my actions. There I was, staring into the face of what I believed to be my greatest fear, mockery. As this continued, I became numb to everything. My attitude damaged my relationship with my wife and children. I had no idea I was suffering from the effects of PTSD. To be honest, I’d never heard of it. Something I regret, I regret it still.
Tragedy and disappointment became my watchwords. However, facing death from something that didn’t carry a rifle became the catalyst of my new mindset. I realized something. I don’t control anything. Then I asked myself, “Why am I trying to conquer an emotion that innate.” So I began to embrace my fear. I took a decade digging into myself, trying to understand my fear. What I figured out was the following:
Once you begin to understand one’s fear, one realizes there is no shame in being afraid. It protects us; keeps us harm.
So, my greatest fear is I’m afraid of being afraid. How I conquered it? I didn’t. I embraced it. Once I accepted this concept, I began to find peace.
How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
Typically, in conversations like these, I have a long, drawn out story. However, today there is no need for a long bowl when a short one will do.
I can’t imagine a day without reading. Yeah, it’s just that simple. I’ve traveled through time, been around the world, and fell in love without leaving my home office. If I couldn’t write another word, I would just pick up a book. The ability to walk away from a world filled with hollow sentiments and plastic smiles feels amazing. In the words of Tina Turner, “Simply the Best.” To feel that , even if for a little while, means so much.
Like most of us here, we’ve had plenty of jobs before finding the one that stuck. I cringe, thinking about some of the things I did to make money.
However, there is one job I think of fondly. I was a paperboy. If it’s hard to imagine me being a paperboy, let me provide a visual; think of the paperboy in the John Cusack classic “Better Off Dead.”
Let’s take a look, shall we?
Sighs … Me and the gang chasing down deadbeats. The things you remember … The good times…sighs
The consequences of rum and bad decisions. These consequences are both endearing and fester. Their existence is personal, and they belong to me. I bear the weight of them alone. I’m happy to do it.
In my humble opinion, one must be willing and able to follow before they can lead. Leaders are not born; they are developed. For those who have or had the honor of leadership, make no mistake to lead another is a definite honor, you may not be a leader in every situation. Those who don’t understand this concept aren’t ready to lead.
Do you have a quote you live your life by or think of often?
I immediately refer to this quote whenever I consider conversations such as these. Due to the current social climate, this quote is a little dated. However, with a few modifications, it fits quite nicely within the current climate. Let’s take a look.
Original
“Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one.” – Marcus Aurelius
“Waste no more time arguing what a good person should be. Be one.”
Now, that’s a little better; let’s get on with the conversation.
I look at this quote as a personal challenge. To dismiss the unwritten standards, for they change depending on region or person, and attempt to conduct myself in a manner befitting how I was raised. From this, I formed the code I live by. The difficulty lies in changes that occur within the individual. Put simply, I don’t feel the same way about things as I mature—circumstances of life change, whether you realize them or not. Nevertheless, I attempt to be the best person I can be within societal limitations or guidelines. Forever cognizant I may fail. Failure is acceptable as long as you retain the wisdom that accompanies it. I must be clear here wisdom accompanies both success and failure.
I also realize someone other than me determines whether I’m a good person. My conduct will be weighed and measured by the people interacting with me. They described what kind of person I am in their description of me to others. If I’m considered a bad person, then I’m as such. If they refer to me as a good person, then I’m a good person. I have no control over their opinion of me. I’m who I am. So, I waste no more time arguing—this action I can control.
Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.”
[The New Statesman, February 25, 1933]”,,-― Cyril Connolly
As a writer, I feel this quote should be the standard for writing everything. What am I doing if I’m true to myself in my writing? I can only fulfill the first quote if I’m true to my writing.
This is how I measure myself; no one else. You are who you are and I respect that.
I was taking night courses working on my degree back when that was a thing when I exploded on the instructor during a lecture. She made a comment about the intent of man during times of war. Looking back, I realize it was merely a generalization, a device I’ve had on numerous occasions then and now. However, her words were like white-hot searing to my depths that night. This incident may have been the beginning of my psychosis.
My emotional wounds of war were still fresh, and I overreacted. The next morning, I was summoned to my Commander to answer for my conduct. Though filled with shame, I had nothing to say in my defense. I stood firm and took the verbal assault I had coming until my entire being felt as hollow as my soul. Then the oddest thing occurred.
They sent me to get help…
On this day, I heard the letters for the first time. Nonsense, rubbish, bullocks, “Get the F*@K outta here, wit dat!” And other such phrases were my expression. Knowing me, I probably said them and more. Yet, the counselor remained steady and explained my plight.
I felt better when leaving their office. Better than I had in a very long time.
I never saw them again…
Decades later, I’m destroyed by these four letters, consumed by them. It was the first time I had the courage to utter them without disdain. Yet, having applied to me, I bore the weight of their shame.
P
T
S
D
Everyone involved said its okay, but their expressions said otherwise. Their whispers were louder than an announcement over speakers. The Memoirs of Madness had been started for years, and now I know the name of my affliction provided the memoirs’ direction. Writing the memoirs provides my direction. They provide a smidgen of peace.
Things are better now, I can say those letters. I have accepted, and with understanding, I can move forward.
I was excited and a little nervous; despite all the warnings, I decided to strike out independently and join the military. Talking about risk, I have never been one who would blindly follow anyone. I’d seen Officer and a Gentleman; I knew I couldn’t stand someone yelling in my face. However, I had to do something with my life. The Madre had busted her butt, getting ready for manhood. Hanging out on the couch wasn’t on the curriculum.
Hell yeah, I’m to get to ride on a plane. This is going to be cool, turned into what have I got myself into? In about 15 minutes. No one said anything about the hazards of flying.
“The time of your life!” they said
“Travel the world!” they said
HA! Let me be clear: if traveling the world meant getting back on one of these things, I was to become the epitome of a couch potato. Okay, maybe not a couch potato; I was willing to do anything that didn’t involve flying.
Fortunately, there was a very nice woman who took pity. She helped through what I considered to be pending death. She talked about her family and where she goes. Before long, I had forgotten my fears and laughed at her stories. I even told a few of my own. Then we started our final approach.
I survived the first flight, and they put me on a twin-engine plane. This was my introduction to turbulence.
“Lord, I’m sorry. (Sniff, sniff), Can you see your way to forgiving me?” I begged
Crickets
“If you can’t …take me now, Lord, just take me now!” I begged
This became my mantra for the remainder of the flight. Since I’m writing this, you can figure out things turned out fine.
After a bus trip, I finally arrived at the military base. Now, I’m definitely nervous. The largest man I had seen in my life was standing under a dim light staring at me. I’m standing there holding everything I own in the world, regretting everything at that moment.
“Boy, what’s that shit on your lip, dirt?” He asked,
Well, that’s now me taking a huge risk that changed my life for the better. I have no regrets…
Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.
A few months back, I was talked into something; if I had thought about I would have never done it. However, my lady has a way of getting me to do whatever. She simply shows me her elbows, and I’m putty.
She wanted me to increase my online presence. “It will be easy,” “Tweet a couple of things – make a couple of posts,” she said. Like I ordered a pizza with pineapples on one side or a cheeseburger with extra cheese. Though I was filled with skepticism, I relented. This time she gave me that enchanting gaze she used to get to kill a spider when we first met. Still putty. So I upped my Twitter game, regaining the followers I lost. I know this process is ridiculously simple, but it was only the beginning.
At the end of February, I breathed life into my blog and shifted things around on other sites. I discovered I needed to learn about marketing, SEO, trends, and all other things I didn’t believe mattered when working on a blog. As I researched blogging, most of the articles weren’t about writing. I found this to be odd, especially since some research was provided by writers.
This week marks just over sixty days of consistent blogging. I learned so much in the last 48 hours, not to mention the last 60 days. I can’t wait to see what adventures are in store. I’m having a wonderful time writing and growing as a writer and content creator. Man, it is hard work, yet very rewarding.
This has been one of the best decisions I have ever made.
Memoirs of Madness 