Old man and his 9 year old

Back, humped
leaning toward the 9-year-old
in the coffee shop.

This morning they are having
communication issues.

9-year-old: rebellious:
doesn’t want to do what the old man asks of him.

Old man insists:
he is not over asking of his 9-year-old.

Old man: circles the ring,
trying different angles.
9-year-old: stiffens
pricks like a thorn in his flesh.

Old man: had ENOUGH.
twisted face stands up
dumps his half-filled coffee in trash
wedges his 9-year-old
in his bag, stomps ou

What I Wrote Today on 2/14/20

1004 It’s Friday and I want to flight sim (flight sim/simming is the act of using flight simulation software on one’s computer to simulate any phases of flying an aircraft.) instead of writing. Why? Because I don’t believe that I’ll ever get paid to write anything. And because of that belief it doesn’t matter what I do any day of the week. So this should be very freeing in the fact that I can do anything I want any day of the week as long as I don’t have to spend money on it. I told my wife happy valentine’s day.
1049 What could I write right now?
Grab a story prompt and go from there.
Write about me being alone for four nights while my wife is gone.
Write about my relationship with my dad. (Do I really want to do this? I don’t think so.)
Write some poetry.
I’m thinking the reason I don’t really WORK at writing is because I don’t want to be a writer. I really want to be an abstract expressionist painter. I just can’t do that now because I don’t have any money. I’m writing because I don’t have any money and it’s very inexpensive to do. Yes, I always want more writing books, but I checked my Kindle this morning and I have tons of books on how to write and a few in physical form on my bookcase. My wife supports me, she’s the one with the 9 to 5 office job so I can write anything I want all day long. Maybe I need to keep reading until I figure out what I want to write about.
1120 I need to be a better person. Don’t get angry about anyone. Quit stewing and fussing about how it didn’t go my way. Be more attentive in conversations unless they are about politics then you can ignore those. Politics does nothing but waste your time unless of course you’re trying to run for office and/or you work in politics then pay attention because that’s your job. Incline to lean toward peace.
I look at the clock and 1130 is approaching and then noon is next and that’s when I get my groceries from Walmart is being delivered. I’m excited because I have goodies coming. I like eating goodies.
1141 Maybe I’m not a writer. I find myself always tired and draggy. I’m probably eating to much sugar. I was awake again  last night from 0200-0430 until I was able to fall asleep until I awoke at 0707. I’m glad I was able to get the extra sleep but as I type I drift off as my head nods down.
1336 I know I need conflict in my stories. I need to read books where conflict is not violent. All I can ever think of when it comes to conflict are vehicle accidents and I hate it! Maybe, the reason why I hate it so much is because it’s a constant fear of mine. I’m tired, so tired of always being afraid. I remember being afraid when I was little and I thought I would just wake up one day, older and over it. One morning I got out of bed and at the time I was in my young thirties and I realized then I’m still afraid of stuff. I’m afraid of the dark. I need to visit a shrink and talk it over. I would, but I don’t want to take the money, money that should be going into my savings and spending it talking to a shrink.
1413 I’m pretty sure I have the world’s most unusual weird job. I listen for alien communications. I’m not making this up. There is an undisclosed location far removed from any trace of humanity. A lone 1000 sq. ft. building with a flat black roof with five large satellites and if that isn’t enough another eight satellites that sit on 100′ towers surrounds the grounds. They do have open elevators in the middle of the A-frame that goes to a tiny railed off platform at the top in case I would need to go out there to fix anything. Let me tell you it’s a bit creepy at 3 a.m. I wish there would be two of us stationed together but that would cost the company to much money. They can only afford one of us. The day job is bad enough but at night, especially when the moon is less than a quarter sliver, it’s a bit unnerving to say the least.

One night after being on the job for only 3 days or in this case nights. I about had a heart attack when I heard a racket like non other. It appeared to be coming from the roof. I grabbed our rubber pellet shotgun and headed for the stairs only to find two of my coworkers banging on trashcans and the door. When they saw the look on my face, they doubled over slapping themselves silly. I thought they were going to pass out due to the uncontrollable fit of laughter. I let them know they almost got their butts full of rubber pellets. I was tempted to shoot them anyway but I didn’t want to get fired, so I let it go.

(notes: we have an infrared drone that sits on the roof, ready to fly at a moment’s notice in case we need “eyes” when were to scared to go out there ourselves.)

I remember now what I’ve been wanting to write: a pick your option/paragraph solo adventure! Now, that’s exciting. Another thing I could write about is for RPG’s. I could write my own no magic fantasy RPG. Nothing where you would have to first “clean up” – it would be family fun out of the box!

The Words I Wrote 021320

I’m frazzled and all I did was get out of bed this morning. I’m fifty-four years old, with the emphasis on old. I don’t sleep well a lot of nights. Let me take that back, I sleep well when I sleep. Most nights I’m wide awake from four to six in the morning. I find myself sleepy, I close my kindle app and put my phone down. It takes another hour for me to fall asleep, only to have my alarm wake me at 7:30 a.m. Why don’t you take a nap? You ask. I would but whenever I do I feel I’m about on the edge of a panic attack for the rest of the day and I feel weird and off until the next day. So I’d rather just fight sleep the whole day and hope for a better night in the future.
I want to write flash fiction again. I need to make an effort and work on this. I want to video game the day away, because I don’t believe in myself enough. I don’t believe that I can make money writing. So why bother? I might as well play video games, both are useless in the long run. Writing feels like the more adult thing to do. There are plenty of gamers out there who make good money playing video games on YouTube and Twitch TV. I don’t have a good enough computer and I don’t want to give up my evenings. I would have to game from about 8 pm to midnight or later. I used to. I streamed on Twitch during the day and I didn’t do well. To be fair I didn’t try it long enough. One of my online gamer friends told me that I would need to do this for a year. I bored myself out of it, in far less than a year. I’m not sure I’m willing to give up my evenings, it’s the only time my wife and I spend time together. I’ve got to find another way. Most flash fiction I hate. It feels like prose poetry.
I’ve read multiple times, if you’re a beginner writer you should write about the things that anger you. I didn’t think I had anything that angered me. Until I saw the new TV show last night, For Life. It went to the top of the list for me. It’s a brilliant piece of work with a powerful cast and writing. I told my wife if I could write one fourth that good I would feel pleased with myself. That show answered my question. What angers me? Injustice! I need to write about injustice. Not sure how to go about it but I feel I’ve got something to focus on.
I won’t be buying any more art supplies unless several conditions are met:
1. I sell art. If that happens I will allow myself to buy other art supplies to continue.
2. Once we get three months of expenses in savings. Then I will budget a set amount of money each month for art supplies. The amount must be agreed upon by my wife and I.
I’m lethargic. I place my elbow on my keyboard’s wrist pad and let my head topple over and rest in my hand. I want to take a nap so bad. I contemplate on lying down on the couch and reading from my Kindle. This text is blurry. I’ve got to do something very soon.
1137 I’ve decided from now on I will time stamp every entry I write something. This will be my local time, east coast. I want to do this in hopes to see a pattern. When do I write the most and the best during the day? And any other information that I may deem to be important to me.
I came back from stretching out on the couch. I dozed for several seconds and now I feel a lot better. Better, to the point of caring about writing and wanting to write again. This feels good. There are some things that came to me while dozing on the couch: photographer Sally Mann, going through my do later web links. I’m very interested in reading more. I must not forget injustice. I admit that wanting to write about injustice overwhelms me a bit. I’m also reminded that I need to believe in myself. I am a writer. I can be a writer. I really do want to be a writer. Actually, I am a writer. I am financially supported.
By the way I’m dyslexic. I like brevity and to the point. I’m fickle to the Nth degree. Because of this, I think I should be a poet. It feels good not playing video games again. Writing give me more self-worth than I care to admit.
1331 She reaches up with her hand, face skyward
car horn honking
tires skidding on gravel
the sound of a tiny thud
a short scream
the girl lies motionless
driver in shock
all was still
except the butterfly who flew away.

This is What I Wrote 021220

The day is almost over and Lillie will be coming home and I’ve got nothing to show for today.

I joined a lot of writing groups on Facebook. I’m hoping that will help but I know I need to show up and do the work. That’s the part that scares me. It’s so difficult to write when you have nothing to write about. Most of my topics and ideas I always talk myself out of because I tell myself no one will care and that probably is correct but I need to not care about that and write about it anyway. If I don’t I’m gaurenteed to never be a writer. I need to press on and keep reading no matter how bored and tired I get.

The thought of collecting typewriters came back to me today. Well, not collecting but buying only one for now to get started and go from there. I’m pretty sure I talked myself out of it again. I do like typewriters but in today’s modern age of the internet you need to get your work out for the option of getting it read by the public and the typewriter creates an extra difficult step: scanning. If you don’t do any OCR conversion then everything you put on your blog is an image. You can’t search on it not that I know of. So it’s better to stay with the computer/wordprocessing and be done with it. I find I can writer better anyway on my wordprocessor than I can a typewriter. The typewriter slows me down to much. I love the feel of my soft touch keyboard attached to my computer. I’m due for a new keyboard soon, some keys are getting stickier by the month. I don’t want to spend any money on typewriters anyway when I’d rather buy art supplies and paint again.

I want to paint small abstracts. Newspaper collage glued on artist paper. I would love to get a sheet of 300 lb 20×30 hot press and cut them up in 5″ x 7″ sheets. I could get sixteen of them out of one sheet. Watercolor on top and just crank these out and sell them for $15 including shipping/packing to anywhere in the lower 48 states.

Writing is more frustrating than gaming all day but it feels like eating high quality food than junk food. That’s ok, right now, neither matters but down the road it’s bound to make a difference. This is what I tell myself anyways.

This is what I wrote today 2/11/20 Tue.

2-11-20 Tuesday

The Hotdog

I’ve been eating one a day for lunch
this whole week.
I used to nuke it for one minute
but now, only thirty seconds.
It’s a lot jucier,
it was dried out and wrinkled
I put a wiggly line of ketchup on it
nothing else
not even bread, I’m trying to cut down on my carbs.
I’m concerned I stand to close to the microwave.
I imagine those tiny little waves,
the ones that leak out are doing to my brian.
I lean back to protect myself.
I eat it quickly
standing by the trashcan.
Not to worry,
I only buy the good ones
the ones without
the nitrates and nitrites.


Quantity is what gives a writer experience and this is why you whould write everyday of your life. When I do that it doesn’t make my writing better it shows how bad it is and how I’ll never get better and the failure I am. This is why I’m so thankful for my wife and how much she loves me. Outside of that and my relationship with Jesus I would be nothing in human form. Even then it gets tough sometimes.


You know I’m having a draggy day when I don’t even feel like flying virtually. Now all I want to do is some form of creating and art. And today I find myself slumped over my keyboard pretending to be a writer. Writing is better than virtual flying because I’m not as tempted to spend money on new addons. I need to be photographing my jewelry tools and supplies and listing those on Ebay, but I’m tired. I would I would have more energy. I should, but I don’t and I hope everything is ok with me. I normally don’t feel this lack luster. I’m thankful I don’t feel sick, just crawl-back-to-bed-and-snooze tired. I can’t do that because when I do I feel super weird when I wake up and nothing feels normal the rest of the day until I sleep again at night and wake up the next day. I feel like I’m about to have a panick attack but I never do. I remain on the edge. A most dreadful feeling. So I stay tired, it’s better that way. Hopefully I can wake up the next day and continue on.


I got this notion, right now that I want to start a cane collection. I think that would be fun.


I ordered six 3.5″ x 5.5″ black notebooks yesterday and they won’t get here until Wednesday. I regret that, I wish I would have ordered ones that would be arriving today. But, these are cheaper than most and that’s why I chose them, to save money, so my wife and I can save more. We are trying to build up our emergency fund.


It’s easy to write a lot like this when you haven’t written in a long while but I’ve done enough of these “I’m-gonna-write-every-day-for-the-rest-of-my-life” writing moments until the day, and the day always comes. They day you wake up and nothing comes, no words and all you’re left with is freewriting. I used to like it but now I hate it because if we are all honest, freewriting is what you do when you have nothing to write about.


I’m a stay at home husband. My wife does the 9 to 5 office work. Everything that I’ve tried never makes money, it cost more than it brings in. I’m better doing nothing than to try painting or making jewelry. This is why I played video games all day, it’s just as meaningless. So I might as well write. I wish I could get excited about writing. I do it because it’s the only thing I can afford.


Fresh Cow’s Milk

straight from the tit.
nothing pasteurized.
nothing homogenized.
u n f I l t e r e d.


New Job

I want to be kinder to myself.
I need to be.
Why is it so difficult to do?
All I can think of:
all of my failures.
There are so many to choose from
it’s a full time job.
Today is the day I go find me a new job.


Billie Eilish:  her voice floats notes.


I want to paint something dead center
I’m so tired of being told I shouldn’t
it’s not good composition.
I pull my paintbrush back
and let go


The hardest thing about reading…
and I know you need to read a lot to be a good writer.
is staying awake.
I found out this is caused by my dyslexia.


When I paint
I like to use only one
the same one throughout the
W H O L E    P A I N T I N G.

My Wife’s Trip

It’s coming and I don’t want it to. I know that it’s good because it’s means I’m alive. When you don’t want to face something I’m to afraid to wish it away because maybe I won’t be here. I want to be here, you want to be here to face the trials. It means you’re still here, you alive. That’s a good thing. I’m sad thinking about it, but I’ll get through it with God’s help, the only way for me.

Last Day

of the year and the decade. So what and who cares. I felt I had to type some letters just because it is and maybe that’s good enough. It will have to be.

See you in the next year and the next decade. Whatever you do don’t get caught up with new year/decade resolutions, they’re meaningless because if you can’t get it done now you certainly won’t in 2020. How you live your life now is who you are. I’m not saying you can’t change, you can, but you probably won’t. I’m going to go out on a limb and say who you are is good enough, except of course if your me then it’s not but we are talking about you, not me.

Don’t get drunk and do drugs or something else that’s stupid. Stay safe and forget about the stupid ball dropping. Think about that for a while, how dumb is that really? Go to bed in good time and get some rest. When everyone else is trying to get over their hangover, you’ll wake up feeling great and you’ll be ready to face a new year and a great decade. (Depending on the actions you choose to make. Yes, it might be a new decade and all but you’re still responsible for your actions.)

the hard truth…

I can only talk about myself. I work hard at being what I think others would admire me to do when in reality I don’t like physical work. Maybe that isn’t my calling. When I was fourteen years old I worked on a masonry crew. I hated it. I enjoy sit down office jobs. Maybe this is why it’s so hard for me to do my jewelry. Maybe I enjoy sitting down and writing. I like doing this right now. It’s calming and relaxing. Could I feel good about myself at the end of my life reflecting back about me being a writer? I could. Even though non of it matters, but I could.

why cant they sit still?

So I’m watching this:

I like Kelly, but she, like all talk show hosts work to hard. Why can’t they just sit still? I’m wondering, are they being instructed to over do the emotions. Look at Tom in this situation. He’s calm.

I thought wouldn’t it be nice to have a talk show that’s calm. Just sit still and listen. Listen to what your guest is saying. You don’t always have to have a knee jerk reaction and overact your response. Breathe more, talk and move less. That’s what I want to do.

confessions of a stay-at-home-husband

A writer is anyone who writes, so that makes me a writer. Which is a joke because if you knew me you know that I’m not a writer. But right now, I want to be a writer again. I’ve tried to be a writer several times in the past but I kept quitting over and over again.

Why another try now? I watched this YouTube video this morning:

I realize that I need to think of years not months. I’ve got to be willing to write lots of crap and words that wasted until I can get anything good enough to be published.

The real reason I want to write, is the lifestyle of a writer is conducive to my lifestyle that I enjoy living. Look at the perks.

  1. I enjoy sitting while working.
  2. I sit most of the day anyway. So then I might as well write something.
  3. Low expense.
  4. I’m supported. My wife works the 9-5 office job.
  5. Given 1-4 why not write, it’s a no brainer.

The worst part is telling people you are a writer when you know deep inside you’re not. Especially my dad or my in-laws.

So what’s different this time then other times. Nothing, that’s what scares me.

Let’s see what happens with this blog, again.

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started