Tag: survival

66 – Edits

I have been forced to live in a technological world for 43 years. It began when I enrolled in college. I took an English Comp and Statistics class. I had to do every thing on the computer. I complied. It was an edit in my life.

One thing always leads to another. Add on take away. That’s editing. When something doesn’t work – change it. If it’s wrong it’s wrong, forever.

It’s survival of the fittest. What makes sense to one person, confuses another. Some people never bother to write a sentence that needs editing. Nor do they think to change their life. To move. To learn new things.

To add to or take away.

That’s editing. My life is full of edits.

How to Create a Character *

You have one man, with volcanic rage, simmering below the surface of his skin. You have one woman who is iron clad and formidable, prepared to protect the family at all cost. Each has their own story, steeped in alcohol, violence and money. Smiles would turn to grimaces – smile, frown – smile, frown – it was a dodge ball game. You would eventually get slammed.

Then take the kid. Twelve years old, eager to please; anxious to get every detail correct.

The man had given orders, “Go saddle up my horse”. Continue reading How to Create a Character *

I am Swimming

I am a Fish ~ In an Eye ~ In a House ~ On a Farm

The air is water. I am water. Protected and encumbered, by a roof and walls. I am here, on plastic. Red plastic. My fingers move on plastic squares, with a roof, over my head.

I see my future. Many people. Rules, lines, plastic cards.

Smile ~ don’t forget to smile.

A fish does not smile. A fish swims.

I am a fish.

Tribal Tune

It’s all in my head, as I watch Hannibal kill and eat, study, chase, travel, elude; my Netflix is unending, as is this sentence, that goes on and on, like life, that doesn’t, while cancer prevails, fought and incubated, as I eat my cereal, plain as can be, the duration is filled with people, sun and sand, surfing, working, laughing, praying, not leaving any time for tears, as I play music, the thunder and lightning sounds, the large pellets of rain pummel my scorched plants, all in the key of E. Born in the key of G, I sustain an E.

And then I cried.

A Sprinkle of Childhood

You have one man, with volcanic rage, simmering below the surface of his skin. You have one woman who is iron clad and formidable, prepared to protect the family at all cost. Each has their own story, steeped in alcohol, violence and money. Smiles would turn to grimaces – smile, frown – smile, frown – it was a dodge ball game. You would eventually get slammed.

Then take the kid. Twelve years old, eager to please; anxious to get every detail correct.

The man had given orders, “Go saddle up my horse”. Continue reading A Sprinkle of Childhood

A Sprinkle of Wisdom

This is my Dad.

~Every generation Blames the one before~

I always heard stories of him working at a gas station, when he met my Mom. She use to pass by, because she lived a block away, and he liked the way she walked.

She was fourteen when they married and he was nine years older. I know things now, I didn’t know when I was a kid. Things that happened.

I can look back now and know, sometimes, he tried to share his wisdom with me, but I couldn’t hear him. I was too angry. I was already lost in my own survival.