Cat Hair everywhere Ran away But it’s still there Fat cat crying Hurricane Katrina survivor Feline PTSD sufferer Thirty days gone We thought the dog ate yer Ran out the door Always scared of your own shadow Never been outside before You were courageous that day though
White Fluffy Pillows
Puffy or Flat
Can Make For Wet Weather
Makes Visibility Vexing
Lay Near to the Earth
Give Nimbostratus Wide Berth
Cumulonimbus's High Thunderheads
Pay Homage to a Norse God
Whose Lightning Bolts
And Remaining Outdoors
Requires Grave Consideration
Godspeed on your trek
across the boggy quagmire.
May the weight of your mortal coil
You’ve been emancipated.
Exit the lightlessness.
Match your tormentors.
No longer be a victim to anguish.
Clutch the dim radiance
filtering through the fog.
Struggle toward its source.
Pass the souls that are adrift
and that do not know they are irrecoverable.
Ignore the tortured souls’ calls.
You are not one of them.
May warmth surround you.
Do not concede to the cold.
Witness kaleidoscopic ambience.
Are you there?
In 1998, Robin Williams was in the film What Dreams May Come based on Richard Matheson’s novel of the same name (released in 1978). Coincidentally, the novel is about a man who goes on a quest after his death to rescue his wife from eternal torment following her suicide. As most everyone is aware, Robin Williams was found dead August 11, 2014 of apparent suicide. He battled addiction and depression. Richard Matheson died June 23, 2013 of natural causes. Maybe they will meet in Summerland.
I’ve waited until nearly the last minute to renew my domain name here on WordPress. It isn’t that I dislike their services or anything, it’s just that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue to pay for a service I’ve barely used.
It’s all me. I just haven’t been writing lately. Not blogging. I have been writing. Writing and submitting and being rejected and waiting and all the fun crap that goes along with writing. I haven’t been posting many new stories here, and even some of the older ones have disappeared, because they are going off into the wild blue yonder to be read and sent back with a note that says, “We really like your creation, but a) it’s not fit for our magazine b) we don’t have room for it in our magazine c) we don’t care d) we hate you. Kidding about those last two. The “we don’t care” usually is communicated by the lack of communication at all, meaning no response whatsoever. No one has ever said they hate me, at least not in a rejection letter.
To say I was at any time disenchanted with the writing world would be inaccurate. I knew and still know the game. Magazines, agents, and publishers are inundated with material. There’s a reason it’s called a slush pile. To say I write as often as I should be would also be inaccurate. I don’t. I procrastinate and get distracted by life in general. I come to choose sleep over writing. Trust me, there was a time when that was not the case. But I’m still trudging along, although slowly.
I’ve thought of self-publishing, been encouraged to, even. Why don’t I self-publish, you ask? Well, the answer is simple. That arena is also inundated, simply over-saturated. Not only that, but it takes money to do it right, and I simply have none. That’s a lie. I have some. But, it’s already been allocated to things like food, shelter, and making sure my son is supplied with the things he requires for his medical condition.
So, I suppose that’s that, then. I renewed my domain here at WordPress because I want to keep writing, and I’m too lazy to go about changing all of the links everywhere on the interwebs to a different address. I also love spam comments, apparently. Kidding. I don’t like spam.