Dream Dark Stories

Tag: journal

  • Day Thirty-Six, February 5th, 2024

    Hi-ho Hello.

    I’m not one for politics, though I know there needs to at least be an understanding of a variable to knowledge, perhaps we call it a decent knowledge. I don’t know.

    So I have a neighbor who I occasionally help, sometimes go and do a medication run due to him not being able and his health being a considerable factor in what he can and cannot do. The older he gets the more the calls have become expected. Then I have my friend, the one I’m editing for and their age and about maybe 20 maybe 10 year difference, but boy, to see one not fall very far from the tree of his family in the predecessors before him, and then the other I’ve been editing and working with him this man didn’t just fall from the tree gently, he landed on a polished shuttle that took him to successes that god willing I can only dream of.

    It’s weird, one is a character that uses language, brash behaviors, and outrage to move their wants, the other is, well not to be biased, but he’s humble, patient, relaxed and calm. There is a polar opposite of the two that is more perplexing than I even understand myself because I don’t know why? Things I question, one: I feel, guessing it’s guilt, knowing one and his difficulties and that he could be helped and I choose to help. The other, honestly he’s got the means and the affordability to do and get whatever he wants, I don’t know why either of them have fallen into my path, but I appreciate one where the other one I take heed with their actions and so far it’s helped me figure a lot out.

    I say I’m not a fatalist and I agree with the Stoics that a putting faith in it that it was already planned, each step being contrived and thought out eons ago, this limits our success and grounds the perspectives and hopeful bounds of change that can come from finding new prospects, new hopes, and knowing we are accountable to what we create.

    Still hugging the cactus I feel that I’m living proof, we likely all are, living the understanding of how actions will always have consequences. Which one has you in your hollow?

    C’est la vie

    good night and good morning, good morning and good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Thirty-Five, February 4th, 2024

    Hello and hi-ho.

    I took my Sunday, not a Sabbath of a day in the sense of religious altruism or dedication an hour or two to a sermon, but a dedicated day to my spouse.

    Made sure she had a feast and cooked meal all meals through the day and made sure dessert and each but was magnefique l. Luckily she’s a meat a potatoe kind of pallet so a good variety of garlic onion and salt tends to please.

    And that’s what I did minus the occasional micromanaging of the Wolf and Shih Tzu Terrier in the back yard and maybe a popsicle break for the little one.

    What I tried to do for one day of my fist 35 days was being 100% present with my wife and my boy.

    I’d like to know what she’d say. My wife has a peculiar way of showing her love and relaying the whole of the relationship we share.

    Would I be considered the jerk or the guy trying to hard. Or maybe someone just trying to leave a light flickering at the least?

    It is what it is I’m going to try not to call the kettle black but I don’t know I just roll with the motion and try not to fall right?

    C’est la vie Sunday was a good day

    Good morning and good night, good night and good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Thirty-Four, February 3rd, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Ever just Zone-Out? I hate it when it happens, it’s like getting trapped, the mind though not blank, grasping at what’s there is like chasing a wish down a hall nearing darkness but every step it gets just a little further out of reach.

    I’m not an editor, but then again I am, today, and yes I mean the third of February, how to sit down with the gentleman that I am doing the Memoirs for, honestly it’s it’s an honor and a massive privilege to have the opportunity that he’s given me given that this guy went from well one being born same time it was advisor was released two being a part of Ball & Co. Aeronautics, NASA and for the growth that was issued after some other things that happened in his life.

    So what’s been happening is I issue some inquiries, I issue some journalistic kind of interview questionnaires through and through we’ve had a few we’ve been building up honestly a really good friendship the last year and it’s been a gracing time.

    But to be honest I’m a bit nervous I’m nervous that I won’t be able to provide correctly or I’ll flub up something that shouldn’t be done, I’m saying i hope i’ll be able to offer what’s expected and I’ll not be shooting low when I should be shooting high, I’m nervous but at the same time I’m more than excited because I’ve always wanted the opportunity to write and it’s funny to find that an opportunity that I get to write I’m not getting to write sci-fi I’m not getting to write the more wider fictional variety that I love to read and I like to take an attempt one, two, or 30 times in the blogging that I’ve done since I started this.

    To which a side note is called for: for anybody who is following and liking I do plan on dropping revised versions of anything I have already published on my blogspace, there’s just been a lot and I want to kind of regain focus and kind of turn on the the right openings to have the stories that I do have already in production already somewhat halfway maybe partly produced I want to make them whole and I that will be happening I just I’m also trying to balance work school and everything else.

    This is different, I’m invested, we’ve become close and I see him more and more as a friend and a member of my family. But I know this calls for research, but then again does it, these are his words, so my goal is to make sure that I do him proud I honor the man as best as I possibly can so my cousin, his love, and his children, and grandbabies can understand that you can have amazing Fortune by being a genuine and good person.

    So that’s the thing I’m trying to figure out how to do the Pomodoro technique but a variation. Thing is how do I write, edit and write, paint, any type of art act, school, parenting, and being a productive partner in my marriage? There’s a way. I know there is, but how much time for myself do I call for before being considered a d***?

    I’ll let you know how week one goes for the project, the editing, and my wonky not pomodoro but pomodoro technique.

    Hello good night, good night and hello.

    C’est la vie

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Thirty-Three, February 2nd, 2024

    Hello and hello.

    Back to a day of mine continued. Check previous post Day Thirty-Two.

    12:00 p.m. – I’ve already clocked in, at least that is if Calabrio isn’t mucked up, little man is set, water refilled, PlayStation controller charged and likely in his hands. I’m usually dealing with two to five calls an hour now, this giving me ample moments of bliss, continued doodling and sketching plans for what will be painted. The dogs are usually out again, if good weather is available, then yes.

    12:30 p.m. – Now, this is about the time I go through the daily itinerary of my Memento Mori quotes, breathing works, and personal journaling. What’s also done and checked a few times from morning to now is my Passion Planner which I use for detailing my plans, outlining painting projects, writing projects and school goals.

    1:00 p.m. – little man starts to get restless, knowing the usual VTO I sign up for is close to being issued, he raps at my office door, jingles the door knob, and kicks with a fury of ten of him. I strain and tighten my neck knowing if I take a second it could be me choosing family over work and they watch.

    Segway: I liked the company from the get-go, and have enjoyed the promises of understanding the need for family time and the importance of being involved. Upon my first and second interview I offered my relinquishing of my MS difficulties, my being the stay at home parent for our child with Autism who’s nonverbal and needs 24/7 surveillance by his parents. They were cordial, understanding and inviting. The more I work, the more I see that’s not the case. Bad enough I have to lock the door and seal it where I can barely hear the chaos that may unravel outside of the office. My hair is graying quickly.

    2:00 p.m – VTO is usually issued now, the little one screams with a smile and shifts on the coach expecting me to sit down. I take the dogs out first if they’re not already out, grab a large drink of water, and take a walkthrough the house while I list the things I need to either finish, start, or avoid.

    2:30 p.m. – the list is simple, do the dishes, sweep, mop, tidy, clear counter space, do homework, study, and prep dinner.

    3:00 p.m. – the biggest thing I do for myself though, knowing the plan is for the house and family afterward is the music. I stack the five UE speakers either in the kitchen or living room and let it ring. If cooking is on the agenda I start the simple prep that likely takes minutes sometimes a half hour. If not that, I’m painting, bringing out canvas unfinished, doodled on, or something blank and needing color. The music invigorates the artistic splendor and I create whether with words, paint, clay, or the markers.

    3:30 p.m. – the music is still belting my favorites, little man likely is singing and in the kitchen either watching the paint being splashed and spread on the canvas or agitated as I write and ask him to be quiet just a little longer. If the oven is being used this is usually when I turn it on.

    4:00 p.m. – the Mrs occasionally throws me a likely time she’ll be home for supper and with this issuing of a gentle alert I wrap up whatever it is I’m doing and get to my kitchen tasks. The music is usually still playing, sometimes a show, other times it’s a podcast, an audiobook or the droning on and on of my son’s favorite show, or movie.

    4:30 p.m. – she’ll be home within thirty and now the veggies are either sliced, diced, or chopped, meats seasoned and water boiling. I go through my usually steps and grill this, oven roast those, boil these, and voila.

    5:00 p.m. – Dinner time, we eat, she shares the trivializing escapades of her third graders and the annoyance of some the joys of others and the less than friendly staff that don’t communicate, she revels in the cooking, and shortly give or take 15-25 minutes we’re done, she’s sitting in the living room and if any outings are to be done we wait theory minutes til then

    5:30 p.m. – depending on mood, needs, and whatever else comes up prior to going anywhere else I clear the table, do the dishes and tidy the kitchen. Some days are better than others, it’s like these posts, some are on time, some nearing late, some too late. C’est la vie

    6:00 p.m. – if no outing, no plan, I take little man outside for some time with the dogs, a popsicle or two for my boy and I write, I listen to my music and play with the doggos or talk to my son. Sometimes he’s interested, other times he could care less, the occasional chest pat, which covers please, thank you, yes, no, even maybe is used at times, deciphering what it means each pat is learned through knowing him. But knowing I can do backyard cleaning, I put it off, waiting for the warmer days and I walk around, still the music is playing and I know we likely have Young Sheldon plans with momma after he finishes his last Popsicle.

    7:00 p.m. – at this time we watch our shows, given the recent SAG-AFTRA strike there is little to be had, though it has left us on a hunt, knowing we appreciate Garland Coben we’ve watched all of his Netflix series’, the Amazon one or two, almost all of You g Sheldon, and Found with Mark-Paul Gosselaar, oh and the trust but that’s due to us following Gaspar on IG.

    8:00 p.m. – we give our little man some time to show us his shows, he usually gets a half hour sometimes an hour while we do our separate things, she scrolls and whatever else, I write, sometimes depending on circumstances or inspiration I bring a canvas in, show her wanting feedback, there’s little and either paint more or start another daily post for this.

    9:00 p.m. – it’s bed time for the little one, the Mrs is getting sleepy, and we usually have a movie plan. We get the little guy cleaned up for bed and tuck him in, I run outside and grab the doggos who run in with glee and give them some love before they run back to their room. We then discuss what we’re watching, finally decide upon one of the many options and try to get through at least half of a film.

    10:00 p.m. – I write, I do my DQs for school, research more for assignments and drift deciding if I want to work more, enjoy some time while she drifts off to the Dreamworld. I’m left alone, at times I feel like it’s a sport between the two of us. Who will fall asleep first, who will stay up?

    11:00 p.m. – the tiredness has yet to sweep over me, the screen is glaring, my family sleeps, and I choose a show, lately it’s the documentary of Vonnegut on Hulu, I’ll write at times, usually editing works unshared here but it’s a bigger project than expected and I aim on getting to that eventually. We’ll see.

    12:00 a.m. – I’m still very much awake still at this time, still very much alive and not nearing the dropping eyes, but I know tomorrow will be coming regardless and try to get her to the bedroom so her neck isn’t kinked and pained the next day, it takes a near thirty minutes sometimes. But it’s been like that since day one. You learn to work with what you got. Anyhow from waking to about now, this is my day, a chill day at that, chaotic ones are left mentioned but they come through in passages, in feelings and the thoughts I share. Sometimes they’re lessons learned, others are revelations, and then there are those that have me wanting to climb a wall and disappear. But we do what we must and take on the next day remembering the parts that worked and avoiding those that don’t.

    Good night and good morning. Good morning and goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Thirty-Two, February 1st, 2024

    Hi ho and hello.

    The following is a daily run through life, as honest as possible, with blips, trips, the confusion and mix ups throughout. Given the MS and the ADHD, I hope it’s not a concussed hodgepodge of nonsense. Enjoi!

    3:23 a.m. – a tossing of my legs trapped in between the sheets, the Sherpa on top, and the legs are sticky with sweat. I readjust, plump the pillow and test either side placing my face on the cold portion, I move my legs as far apart without bumping her, I drift off.

    4:35 a.m. – My body maintains a steady sweating, leaving me shedding the blankets down to the sheet, another readjust, I can feel the tightness of my groin, the fullness of my bladder and lay my head a moment before sliding over to the bathroom. I hear the little one snoring, the dogs sleeping in their kennels shifting, and I sit on the porcelain. The floor is cold, stiffening my feet, following to my ankles, to the knees and I give myself a shake, dab with a square of toilet paper, flush, wash hands and drift back to the bed. The electric, standing heater beside my darlings side kicks on its groaning chatter and my body meets the cold and clammy bed. I shake the phone on the nightstand, it’s 4:40 a.m. I beg for sleep to quickly grace my eyes and squeeze them closed til I drift.

    5:30 a.m. – the alarm doesn’t chitter, chatter, it’s a buzzing that wakes and the brightness that gleams from the screen. I stir, but slowly, feeling the air around me, trying to figure out if there’s a thermal shirt nearby. I’m up now, feet bare, standing in my underwear, and slowly rummaging through the basket of clean clothes till I pull a shirt, long socks, and the jeans from the night before. I coat the bottom of my feet with Lumé, Old Spice to the armpits and a soft padded walk to the bathroom again.

    6:00 a.m. – an alarm can be heard, it’s my wife’s, it’s stopped. Fully clothed and now with a hoodie on, I wake the little boy, pat his behind and whisper a call to check on his mom, nearly in a stupor he smiles meekly and runs to the bedroom and immediately slips onto the running into his mom as though it was rehearsed. I go to the kitchen, make a smoothie, fill up the 40oz Owala, and pack the little ones lunch. Two protein bars, some cereal, chocolate Belvitas bag, a gorp mix, and a soft peppermint.

    6:30 a.m. – I run back to the master bedroom, ask if there’s anything I can get while I ready our son, this is usually when the annoyance builds as I’m talky, our son is ready for the bus and it’s 25 minutes too early.

    7:00 a.m. – I help the Mrs, loading the Jeep with her bags, give her a kissa and sign loveydovey things while she backs up and heads out. Shortly after Our son’s bus is cutting up the curb and we bolt to that bus together, one giddy and excited, me irritated the working mundane is veering on in an hour.

    7:22 a.m. – the little one is gone, I breathe a heavy sigh, troy on over to the doggos and let them out, at times I’ll have a small puff and a long drag at my coffee while i get them their water and eats.

    7:40 a.m – nearing clock-in time for work, I ready my coffee, turn on the mug warmer next to the screens meant for work and solely used for work. I groan and get my UE speakers belting out a track or two while I watch the dogs and count down my time.

    7:50 a.m. – Clock-in, get the Citrix hub up and running while I wait idly for 8:00 am. The groaning clock teases me and I punch in for VTO as I’m getting sick and tired of the monotonous rhetoric and I take that first hard gulp of my dark elixir.

    8:00 a.m – work starts off with silence, the Microsoft Teams feed that has grown to be a larger annoyance than the calls of irritated Pts needing cancellations, reschedules, and the broad…Calabrio once again fails addressing human need for break times coinciding with appropriate times. Break in an hour, I doodle, scroll through Memento Mori and the popular doom scrolling I believe most of us are familiar with. I grab one of my carts with paints and the brushes needed, an empty canvas and stare off grasping the ideas in my head, with the occasional call interrupting my focus, they’re mundane calls that usually are requesting confirmation for appointment times and the likes.

    9:15 a.m – break time, music, a Puff built bar, and bringing the dogs back in for a small nap before lunch. My mind wrestles with worries, needs, and a call for a breath. I close my eyes, enjoy the music until the alarm blares out three minutes before heading back to the grind a room away.

    10:55 a.m. – I’m tired now, lunch is coming up, the boy will be arriving within 20 minutes, if that, and I find myself doodling again, sketching, well something, what it may be is an eye, maybe a small smile within the eye, but the phone rings again right before lunch and I grit the teeth and play the role, “Thank you for calling Blah blah blah my name is Matthew, may I have your first and last name as well as date of birth?”

    11:10 a.m – Lunch time, the bus pulls up, leaving me little time to rip the headset from my mop and bolt to the door. I may have forgotten to clock out, doesn’t matter. My son and I have gained a tradition since starting school ,

    Sorry mates, readers, I’m exhausted, the tests blood work, and the exhaustion from the fretting has left me near stupefaction.

    To be continued.

    Good night, good morning. Good morning and goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Thirty-One, January 31st, 2024

    Whoa, the day got away from me, the time extracted through the syringe of exhaustion and the flummoxed anxiety that I use as energy to push it on for the next day.

    Hello and Hi. So as of now, I am finding that the MS does not like Ocrevus, which on the bad end has me reeling with a flummoxed anxiety that leaves me not knowing what’s up or down, I guess I celebrated too excessively than I should have. And by celebrating I mean painting, doing my artistic crap, music, lots of it, that’s all not a drinker and I have no friends so I don’t party.

    So what looked like having a good 41 years with my family until essentially just breaking down where I’m going to be stagnant and ne’er-do-well, to it being well about 10 years however we’re waiting for some results, and with the virus that I also have tied in with taking the Ocrevus I’m genuinely hoping that if it’s what I hope it’s not is caught immediately so at least my wife and I can plan the next two years to be amazing, or at least we can settle for a close ten years lived as best as possible without things falling apart.

    I’m frustrated. I genuinely, well I was more than elated, I had this exceptionally sensationalized exuberance kind of just pouring through everything I was doing and it was with that knowing I had more time, I have the opportunity of time on my side being able to provide what my son needs, what my wife needs, what I need. And as of now that’s not what I’m facing and god it is frustrating more than frustrating debilitating I’m confused I’m lost I’m sitting at the computer working but not working while I do this when I talk to you the reader and again I am I’m mad and more and more I’m kind of retreating into a little pocket of, essentially, I guess it’s fear.

    I know this post is dropping on the 1st, sorry. I will have a short story popping up by the weekend as well as possibly some art I have a few pieces that I may share but I also got to connect my page with my ig and Facebook and really hoping Spotify and WordPress get their crap figured out cuz I would love to share the music that I’ve been dealing with are that’s helping me deal.

    Good night, good morning. Good morning and good night.

    C’est la vie. If not today there’s always tomorrow.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Nine, January 29th, 2024

    To anyone, everyone, or just one. Yes this is my soapbox and yes, this is where I talk. Sometimes it’s to myself sometimes it’s to the brother I know occasionally gets these, sometimes it’s to no one and just venting. I’m not a professor, I’m not a lecturer, and my intention is more or less to share the traveling of life’s findings or lessons that have either helped right the person I’ve become or the pieces that get shifted and pushed that I don’t like and or trying to change. Regardless yes, I’m on the soapbox and no it’s sadly not for justice,but for death or life or really anything because I don’t know.

    So I come with a question, Is it fate that we become what we do in everything we can to not be or is it being a fatalist that brings on the idea of avoiding all causal aspects that create this very fate anyway? Does it matter or is it just a gorgeous, beautifully drawn out tapestry that really, none of us have any idea about, none of us know where we’re going, and no matter how much we plan, we can’t see the future. Or is there a soothsayer around?

    I’m not here to be anything but myself. I’m here because I want to…talk, rant, rave and share my perspectives

    Sorry this is so damn late, I’m exhausted and getting some news

    Good night and good Morning, good morning and good night.

    Memento Mori

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Eight, January 28th 2024

    Did you know it’s the 85th anniversary for The Wizard of Oz?

    Since I met my wife and her daughter at age four, it’s been a known and respected film for the three of us. Especially for our child, who was enamored by Glenda, the witch of the North , loved Toto, and dressed up as Dorothy numerous times for Halloween. It brings thoughts of time, the reminder of grays on my beard, wrinkles around my eyes and the young adult I’m watching grow.

    We enjoyed a wonderful trip to the XD theater available at our local Cinemark theater and embellished with delicious theatre treats and meals.

    I likely overstepped and bought more than should have been but the complaints were joyous and more observations of reverie than anything else. Of course we were being cascaded by the familiar and near homely touches of what’s brought us together since our beginning. The four of us, my wife, myself, and our two children engorged themselves on popcorn, candies, tenders, fries and slurpees.

    While enjoying the festivities of the 85the anniversary we sang and cherished the grace of Dorothy, the humor of the three, the Tinman, the Scarecrow, and the Lion. We chuckled at the jokes though repeated and known, on the enormous screen, we were all transported to the time of then, embracing the lapse of time and the knowing that we were time traveling in a sense of the excitement, the exuberance of energy and laughter that could be felt hanging in the air. We all gazed at the brightness, smiled and cheered with the Oz festivities and the Changing colors of the horse, the operatics of the Lion, and those damn ruby slippers.

    What made it worth of life was the being present and embracing every breath, being able to shine with my family and be proud, happy if for a moment. And that moment sits in deep, resolute and rings.

    A good day. A worthy day. And I think of what I’ve written, if I could make one person’s life worth that glee, then knowing this brings me a wonderful joy of light and how we can be that, we can bring light and be light.

    I will be light.

    Goodnight and Good morning, good morning and Goodnight. Enjoy and may light fin it’s way to your heart today and the next and on.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Seven, January 27th, 2024

    Hello good morning good night, I apologize I’m a little late on this one because I got tired and honestly I let my worry really really take the best of me.

    As I’ve stated in prior posts, MS is a tricky little mind f***. I’ve taken the Ocrevus and am finished with my first infusion and at first there were curious worries, then elation, with a coming regret and then a composing of bitter contentment.

    At first I took to MSabove asked, around red people’s fears people’s horror stories and the likes, and then I let it really really fester and really really sink into being more than petrified. Mitigate the actual appropriate ways to find information. So I took to using my mind as scientifically as possible which is not like me but, I am proud of myself, however the news that I found was more than daunting, try absolutely terrifying. So spinal tap, news, and a matter of when this will really, really be a prospect. This is why, because if PML is what’s going on then I’ve got two years and that’s if it’s a possible good two years or my body will completely just shut down and throw me to the wolves.

    So from talking to nurse doctor another nurse my family who’s also a married of nurses and my very good friend whose daughters are also nurses or doctors depending on which one we’re talking about I’m being told to be my own advocate not only be my own advocate but be aggressive let them know you don’t want to take care of me then I’m going to find out if the answer is the only way I can and if that’s the case then I’ll have the right to kind of push it in their face. Meaning if need, be file a lawsuit but that’s another thing, doctors don’t aim for that s***, they’re not trying to be an adverse reaction for answers and finding answers. They have a bunch of red tape they themselves have to follow through and with my job I’m beginning to understand that more and more. It is just a business nowadays, the U.S. health system l,b that is, doesn’t care about the patient, at least I know as a receptionist for the company I work for having to do with health issues I get to care about the patient. However being the shoulder and sometimes, coming off as the guy who makes it come off like I’m cutting tape when I’m not, because I’m not licensed. But I’ve noticed the more candor and honesty you bring to every patient as long as you make sure to listen to them, they’re more than happy for anything that can be done because until that moment they didn’t feel like they were being heard. Anyhow I’m realizing being the patient dealing with circumstances that are somewhat parallel to issues I’ve been dealing with as the agent and not the patient it’s sad to know that I’ve genuinely have to be my own advocate and aggressively so.

    Also to those who do read and keep up with my daily drops or really anything that I post I do apologize for a late one today I’ve been somewhat in my own head a bit worried and trying hard not Spanish but at the same time trying to, I guess we saw myself to a point where I can think logically, and acts appropriately to make sure I can get things done I’d rather know that I have two years left then find out a year and a half that I’ve got months if that’s the case then we’re going to make this the best damn blog no one to freaking anybody that we meet and I will do everything I can to pour my heart out and be as real and raw as I can so everybody else can get in front of it for themselves and for the future so that is what it is right like that’s why we do what we do that’s why we write we want to communicate and personally yeah I would like to feel that I’m seeing your likes and your follows definitely help and I feel the support and I apologize if I’m not going and liking your pages more often I will definitely make an effort to do so and I apologize that there is very little punctuation, sometimes when you do the voice to text you got to make sure you do that and today I’m not going to cuz I want to make sure I drop this so I can make sure the day 28th drop is hopefully going to be seen by midnight if not 1:00 in the morning mountain time that is.

    Also the Latin phrase that I close with everyday is in layman’s terms “know thyself“.

    So every time I close out I am definitely reaching out to anybody and anyone to remember that it is on us to know who we are to know what we are and to know how we react with anything that we are facing let’s shine some light on the world let’s shine some light on one another and let’s shine some light for one another.

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. May you all have a beautiful night a beautiful day and I will see you all soon hopefully I will have an update on the spinal tap blood work and regardless of HIPAA I’m going to be as honest and forthcoming as I can be I hope it’s not too much I am what I am and I’m realizing more and more specially with what I’m finding more data proven details, his may be all I’ve got.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Five, January 25, 2024

    So, whether I have ADHD I don’t know kind of like the whole depression thing again I don’t know I’m not going to be one of those people where oh that’s totally this or it’s definitive, I’m positive though it could just be having a bad week. It could just be a hanging glum I can’t remove myself from, could just be not having had enough food or water. I don’t know I really don’t.

    Personally I don’t think that’s a problem as I stated last night or morning, whenever it was that the whole of the post is created. And why one may ask, it’s due to thinking we’re not meant to know everything due to the fact that if we did what would be the point. What would be the point for children to grow if they had nothing to discover on their own. I remember discovering things even now I remember the first time I read Harry Potter, and I’m not complimenting the f****** writer I’ll straight up say that, I am complimenting what it meant for us as kids to open up that book and get enveloped into a world that completely removed all the nonsense we as kids were dealing with. Straight up I am not supportive of Rowling, I completely am still behooved with her behavior especially due to the fact of all the people that found themselves through her damned writing and then for her to go and pull the crap she did was completely unfair to the readers. It was more than just a slap to the readers.

    Whoa, sorry, but that’s what I’m getting at in this post today, it’s the motivations and the people we meet and that inspire us that change how we think and how we perceive the world. So I bring two quotes of the Stoics

    “To bear trial with a calm mind “robs misfortune of its strength and burden.” –Seneca

    Life is chaos, though there are moments of the calm and quiet nature in ourselves and the world around us, it’s ravaged and gobbled up with in a moment upon noticing that of the silence that we recognize…and then that whirlwind comes. Personally I’ve had my weight of issues, of chaos and honestly I wish I had found this quote sooner. Not that I would have listened to the heeding of Seneca. We get comfortable with the typical monotony don’t we? But I feel that the more we grow, the more we learn, it tends to leave a residual essence of how we should act and how we affect the others when we can’t keep calm. And I feel that is what Seneca is getting at.

    When we’re faced with the adversities, that you know life likes to throw, it is in us to be prepared and not just be prepared but to take it calmly, to be peaceful and aware of how we act. It’s in us to how we create our emotional control during these times and the words that we use while that’s happening. As it is words have an amazing and terrifying way of affecting so much more than we think, look at the world now, look at the chaos that we’re seeing on the news. It’s brutal and it’s overly egregious which brings my call for being mindful and I definitely do agree with Seneca on this. We are to be at peace when adversity addresses us, how we act and how we create our response is the telling of who we can be and what we’re going to become.

    “It is not so much our friends’ help us, as the confidence of their help ” –Epicurus

    My friends were Bradbury, Vonnegut, Harry Potter, the Hobbits, and Dream from Neil Gaiman’s works. There was also King, Jackson, and a myriad of others. They were what helped provide the courage to speak, a tapestry to learn what’s good and evil and how to tell the difference, as well as it giving me the inspiration to truly become me.

    Meaning if there is anything I can do it will be to help or use the right words that one person finds to inspire them and help them become who they are. That’s why I am a writer, that’s why I’m an artist, and that’s why I put my son and my wife front and center, I’ve made mistakes but as I stated before, we have a choice, do we take the negative or do we choose the positive? It’s on each of us and I take each day with new light and an intentional want to be the best I can be for myself and those I may touch through art and the words left here.

    So I leave with a song

    ‘Hope For Now’ – City and Colour

    Enjoi!!!

    Good morning and good night, good night and good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Three, January 23rd, 2024

    I don’t know if it’s sad or if it’s an actual achievement today, but this is the longest I’ve gone posting consecutively. 23 days. And since January 1st, likely long before it as a matter of fact, I’ve found that I loathe my job.

    It’s not that the job is a frustrating one, toxic, or any of the typical complaints heard from job environments. There is the occasional micromanaging, but it’s slow, and when the calls take ten to fifteen minutes between each, the hands get fidgety and I reach for pen and paper, paint and canvas, or clay and start creating something that wasn’t there before. It’s just simply not something wanted for long. I’m nearing my bachelor’s in a year, and want something that ties in with interests I hold dear and I truly enjoy writing here, and about everywhere.

    But through readings, continued research, and a feeling that there’s more I can do than just talk about a personal observation, perspective, and the emotions that touch the sensitive spots in the mind and heart.

    The plan still remains as I shared the other day (see Day 20). My focus will maintain on the goals, in all honesty I feel more and more that I have to. And here’s why.

    I’ve neglected to share a prominent concern, though I think I’ve mentioned some concerns I shared about the MS, being positive for the JC virus, and the Ocrevus infusions that started late November 2023. What I may have not shared was prior to starting the Ocrevus, my cousin visited me in dream. The biggest reason I feel this to be important, is one, he passed away about five years ago, two when I was given the news he was sick, I knew he wasn’t going to make it.

    Ever have those times where beyond doubt your heart and mind consecutively concur with the details, the information, and the reality of what’s to happen? It’s almost as if there’s a grabbing at a time tunnel that only the mind can pass through to see it and then it fades. This happened the day I was called with the information that my cousin was sick. It hit me like a train, and after hanging up I broke, and wept knowing, beyond a shadow of doubt, science or faith wouldn’t heed what was to come. He passed in April 2018.

    He spoke to me a month before the Ocrevus with this one line: “We’ll see you soon.” But there was another voice sharing it, my brother, who had also passed from a brain aneurysm two years ago, they spoke in unison, my cousin smiled and I woke up. I kept it to myself for a day or two, rather shaken but tried not to let it bother me. My figuring was due to the concerns I had shared with my neurologist, fear of knowing I’m positive for JCV, and the small warning heard at the end of the Ocrevus commercials. It’s not a small one, mind you, it’s rather shocking; increased risk of cancers, including breast cancer, PML, and death.

    I breathed in and took a risk, accepted the chances and thought, it’s either I have ten years left of typical living or take the chance and gain 41 years to live with my family. So I went through the two-step infusion for the first run and did it with slight apprehension but with a relief that I had made a decision. It went surprisingly well, a small infusion reaction typically seen with Tecfidera patients. It’s another MS medication and the flare up reds the body like a lobster with an agitating itch, but luckily the nurses resolved the small reaction. I exhaled and started painting, writing, and pushing myself into everyday, making sure that I tried to live my every hour with purpose.

    Now MS comes with a myriad of symptoms, annoyingly so, making it hard to distinguish a headache from the myelin sheath around my spine being eaten away, nerve pain that screams through the legs, arms, back and anywhere else. The symptoms become easier to recognize but still nerve racking being in my 30s, with the exhaustion, confusion, and showing signs of memory issues, cognitive ability issues, and motor function issues, but I learned to deal. Sometimes I didn’t want to but I’m trying to stay strong.

    Seven weeks from the second infusion and I’ve checked 5 boxes off for the signs of PML, shooting pains like steel rods suddenly appearing in my arms and throughout my body, memory issues where the space of a memory is gone, visual issues similar to seeing things like hallucinations, depression (still unsure), and an exhaustion that beats on the body but holds on to the sleep leaving me awake at 12:53 am or longer and waking at 5:00 am.

    I want to call the doctor, but then again it’s MS, and I keep telling myself it was just a dream I had during a nervous time, that it’s in my head and it’s likely just the MS being difficult, and then there’s the fact, though I know I’m likely dreaming every night I sleep, I haven’t had such a vivid and daunting dream since, that I was able to remember upon waking.

    That’s why the plan has been set, my hope is that my life will be long and rewarding, that I’ll get to see the grays on my son’s beard as he ages, that I’ll walk my baby girl down the aisle for whomever they love. And that I’ll be able to resurrect my marriage before I pass.

    But I just don’t know, and to be frank, I’m fearful of what may happen, because the more symptoms that share similarities with the data of PML reports, bring worries of living either one more year, being in a vegetative state, or having the original set theory that I’ll live how I’ve lived for another 10 years before it gets too difficult and I’ll need a live-in aid.

    So now you have it, and now maybe you see why I’ve been more than forthcoming about who I’ve become, how I observe the world and the joys and perspectives that are within. I will continue to write, paint and share what I have to share til there’s nothing left.

    Note: I don’t have many to share this with, so yeah it’s raw and yeah I’m showing a fragility to me and what is happening but why not?

    Goodnight and Good morning, good morning and goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Two, January 22nd, 2024

    To continue the commentary of a fizzling and straining relationship, though perhaps it’s not fair to neglect a rebuttal from the other side, though, knowing her, she likely won’t read it, hasn’t read any of it, and won’t bother.

    Anyhow, if you’re familiar with the Google feed or ‘Discovery’ you know that if permissions granted the items shared coincide with life and the life path you’re walking through. Recently I’ve been getting tags with click bait lines such as “are you being manipulated?”, “8 ways to see through gaslighting and how to counter”, and so on. Occasionally I’ll take a look, skim through and brush it off, but the more relaxed I’ve become and the more I’ve noticed I grow, they’ve been almost jagged with the implications and direction. Case in point : If someone is playing mind games with you, they’ll display these 7 subtle behaviors. As found on Geediting.com, mind you I’m well aware of credibility and how to properly research data especially for the topic. This one is more of an op-ed piece and it’s due to that and the willingness to release the writers own circumstances and moments of clarity, though there’s little to any concrete evidence, I too appreciate the rawness of the article and the sincerity of it but know I need to walk tentatively regarding non verified and substantiated publications.

    Though my actions from our past together were deplorable and full of dishonor to both her and myself, I grew. I pleaded that change and showing an accountability daily, hourly, and to the last iota of all I am. This became a mantra that I’d stare aloud and with complete conviction. This was met with a “We’ll see.” Or a shoulder scrunch and a snicker while I did all I could to show my heart was here for her and only her. We tried, and I tried again, I’d fall, and be reminded of my shortcomings, my faults and how I can’t change. So it goes.

    I still try and my heart aches. I cannot face myself without knowing, addressing, and being accountable, and responsible for those actions, my stupidity, and I walk with a fear stepping on shells, saying it wrong…

    Which brings me to a question? If you love someone, you assimilate right? You learn the lingo, the idiosyncrasies, and the odd styles and needs of their daily life that you adapt and do what can be done to pay tribute to the originality of who that person is and in doing so there’s a silent sharing of love that is shown through actions. At least these were my thoughts, but surely and too slowly maybe I’d been finding that it’s a choice to want to change, it’s a choice to how we see, what window of perception we choose to view through and how we decide what we see affects us. How much control will you give the world in affecting your difference, and the originality that makes you you? And who is the one who doesn’t need a vin diagram or chart to explain who you are and who you’re becoming? Do they show the patience?

    Or is it a see it my way, do it my way, because I’m right and you’ve shown you’re always wrong?

    I think of Vonnegut, I think of his wife, and then I lean into the memoir I’m writing for my friend John, and I think of love and look inside my window of space for love and…it sits heavy, and I take a breathe, choking midway while I whisper “I Love You” and think if it’s true for her to me, me to her. Have we fallen into a paradigm?

    Hi-ho

    Good Morning, Good night. Goodnight, Good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-One, January 21st, 2024

    I hope your week and weekend was gracious while being pleasant.

    Ever have a song that you connect with? Or the communication from singer and group touch you somewhere deep and personally tied through a shared understanding?

    I found The Hics around two years ago and, if I was to say that was bad timing, it’d be an overly egregious lie. Ill get back to this…check songs Lines, Tell Me, and Float by The Hics

    Relationships on their meaning, friend to friend, brother to brother, sister, teacher workmate, what have you. There is a tenuous thread that seems more than fragile nearly like fine China, porcelain, or the more malleable but still fragile, Playdoh.

    Speaking of friendships, I have one and he’s 85 and the few I have had since last year, I found I had squandered some bridges and one’s big enough that I had to sever the ties to benefit the survivability of my own relationship with my wife. Which brings the other tests in holding a relationship, especially a marriage. This is more than fierce, more than fear-inducing and more tender and, or rapturous depending on circumstances then I’d ever imagine.

    As a younger man, being I proposed at 20, not knowing I would be graced with a child who has autism and is nonverbal, that I’d get diagnosed with MS seven years after, and that I was not at an appropriate and mature level for when I initially got married. It was a whirlwind of mind-blowing stupidity and aggression. Even still I loathe the young man I was, I’d beat the s#¥° out of him, but I’m here now. I’ve grown and I will continue to grow and learn from the mistakes I’ve made so as not to repeat them.

    Anyhow the music, the relationship, the coincidences. The Hics happened to pop up right around the time of our relationship starting to disintegrate, as it is, the dichotomy of our differences and what drives our purposes are… Just that they’re different. The lyrics and heavy tones beat at a tired heart and my pained ears but it’s the addressing of the natural aspects to the lyrics. The similarities and the incessant calls for a hopelessness but a yearning that it can be rectified throughout each song I’ve listened to of theirs. I still listen, still try and try to be the better man I want to show and…hugging the cactus is taking and draining like never before. January 22nd post will go into detail here more and more

    Good night good morning. Good morning good night thank you all for the support thank you all for continuing to come back.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty, January 20th, 2024

    To those who’ve glimpsed through, taken a gander, and favored a passage or two, I thank you. And would like to share my appreciation for the support and favored reads you’ve liked. It means a lot.

    My first year using WordPress was essentially a bust. I was lazy and felt that with the year and a half, maybe two years under my belt of college, would have been enough to have me appropriately conducting the right times, to drop the right perspectives, and sharing aspects through every other social media platforms possible and reaching out to and talking with others, what are they called? Influencers, yes, and entrepreneurs.

    I’m not being smug nor am I intending on being coy, there’s a lot on my mind. I wasn’t consistent, I came in with this idea to write short stories, then wanted to incorporate quotes, then cooking recipes, sandwiches, chili, and occasional doodles, nothing of substance just a brief intro of what may be stimulating but lacking in most areas of support. Along with that I’d make these stupid promises and intended dates do story drops that borough nothing but a lack of everything. Yeah I gave MS, yeah the ADHD is sometimes a problem but I needed better focus, needed more accountability for what, who, and how I stand as me being me.

    The last couple years have been more than stressful, seven years for striving to build a marriage all to be told separation was all that was wanted, prior to that Grand mother, mother, cousin, uncle, and my brother died. Then there’s also my brother that I wrote about last night, the weight that still resides from that taste left in the mouth and wanting to help someone who comes off injured and disregarding an aid due to pride. Then there is the likely ‘depression’, still not sure and not diagnosed just feel off. But I try to distance myself from this and that while being a clarity to things I can control.

    Which brings me to now, January 20th and 21st, 2024. My goals from here on out for DreamDarkStories is this:

    • January will be a maintaining of daily journal entries that cover a portion of who I am and where my heart is in perspectives and values.
    • February, March, and April will be a slow release of art and stories that share my values and start veering focus toward DreamDarkStories. With this will be maintained daily journal entries, weekly page or two drop for a story or two, and up and coming apart works.
    • May, June, July, and August I will be sharing along with all mentioned above in this list, my regiment of how I take care of myself, how I train my dog Lobo and his growth while sharing the introspective value of tying everything together through focus and accountability. Maybe minor being a father and husband thoughts too.
    • September, October, and November will be contain what’s mentioned above, also finished drops of short stories edited and finished, hopeful progress seen in my marriage for myself, health progress, leading to…
    • December where I will be compiling a first anthology collection of short stories shared, a finishing of The Walker Memoirs (I’ve been quietly and somewhat privately working on this the last year), and my first attempt at publication.

    So come with if you will, I appreciate the support, invite the questions, and would joyously accept input.

    Goodnight and Good morning, Good morning and Goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Nineteen, January 19th, 2024

    Whether it’s depression or just being in a slump, I honestly don’t know. But I promise I’m not aiming on offending or pushing anybody the wrong way or rehatching everything, anything, I am simply making an observation of myself and how I’ve been dealing with the new infusions and my own perception. That being stated I’m pretty sure it is depression, as I’ve only found myself being more irritable, more agitated, and more bothered by behaviors and decisions either voiced or simply acted out.

    I had an opportunity to meet up with a brother that I hadn’t seen in over seven years, that’s a lot of time, a lot of Life happens in that amount and a lot of change depending on the person. At least that’s what I had assumed.

    This wasn’t the case however, I should have seen the cues. I had asked if he’d like something from McDonald’s, stating we were about to leave the restaurant and to let me know if there was anything.

    Now have you ever seen the movie Fear? The thing is we were raised being taught that the use of phrases such as ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, and the idea that treating others in a way we’d appreciate ourselves to be courteous and decent. I agree with this sentiment blatantly, as an observer and human that appreciates cordialness I find it shows an appreciation and benefit of seeing the betterment in people. It’s also a good way of not only getting what’s being requested but showing a very Americanized system of honor as in honoring oneself the other and how we share that treatment with one another.

    This wasn’t the case. Not one damn bit. I’m not a vindictive one, nor am I one to serve an offer with retribution if I had asked regardless of the outcome. The a** wanted two spicy chicken, and two doubles with cheese. I should’ve known with the lack of either phrases shared above. Atop that, there’s the specificity of the order. It could’ve been any other meal, a combo, any collection of sandwiches big or small, but what was ordered is a favorite I’ve seen ordered by the toxic and overly masculine characters that don’t show a clarity of values and tend to blur decency with audacity.

    You may ask why, and I’ll tell you, it’s named the Mcgangbang. It’s an egregious and grotesque name that, just doesn’t sit well. Yet, assuming it was just a favorite he’d been known to order since being a teen, I ignored the moniker and messages as a brother verbiage and brought his meal. I had hoped it’d be more joyous, more elation as it’d been seven years and our kids had aged, my hair grayed and lengthened, his mid riff thicker and hair line retreated. I genuinely hoped there’d be a comfortable nature and familiar behavior as we’re adults now.

    It was as if I had been sent back to my teen years walking into his home. The living room sat somewhat tidy, a myriad of THC canisters strewn on his coffee tables, pipes empty, some partially packed, and a faint, stuffy aire of reeking weed. The girls rooms were filthy, his master, worse than theirs, and paraphernalia strewn through almost each room. I look at my wife, my eyes hiding my horrors, but she sees through my shade and smiles softly helping our son to a couch and maintaining focus toward the little guy so as hot to have him get curious with the shite around the living room. my brother, he issues a hand toward the garage, stating it’s where well smoke and how he’s joyously learning how to roll blunts. I bite my tongue, though I wanted to rag on him for being so childish, for having a house like such with two little girls but can see a pain that’s familiar.

    I share my being proud of him, I share my sentiments to keeping himself together after a tenuous splitting of his 11 year marriage. He scoffs and states some aggressive lines about wives, and the horrors they bring, issues a finger at my wife but holds his tongue, and complains of the chaos and being stoned incessantly. Brags about much of nothing and jostles a familiar machismo I’ve only seen in gyms and on the field for a sport I once played. His vernacular is agitated as he feels any comments not supporting the anguish are either a benefitted statement to make myself feel better, or issuing a call for pity. He talks about laying pipe, and tries to paint a tapestry of sexual gratifications brought to him while I waive off his flexing and shake my head.

    Mind you, my wife is with me, my son right next to her, and I’m trying to be a good brother. I’m trying to be supportive and as gracious as I can before deciding I’m not going to put myself within this world he’s alluding to. I’ve gained so much and I’ve moved beyond this childish behavior and the dangerous antics he’s mentioning seem beyond dangerous. I think of Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Zeno, and myself and who I am, how I brought my family, my loves to this home and what we were met with and made a conscious decision to remove myself and my family from the toxic machismo disorderly slowly unraveling in the garage.

    For a moment I felt guilty, a second I felt shame, and realized this is life, this is what happens to the people we love and let live. We love our brothers, our sisters, our parents and those we consider family. But we’re also our own and it’s in us to make our own decisions and create our own fate. Though my heart sits somewhat heavy with who I saw today and how little he had grown in the seven years, but still to know he lives and breathes is more than I can say for another brother I didn’t have an option in seeing before he passed.

    So…it…goes.

    C’est la vie

    Good afternoon and Good Morning. Good morning and good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Eighteen, January 18th, 2024

    Gremlins. Puck. Tricksters. Anansi. Spiders.

    You ever lose a shirt, socks (not just the one), keys, a remote, or a hoodie? All different in size, all near innocuous but mundanely needed. Those keys though, depending, are a need. They vanish, these items drift into a void that is neither here, there, or anywhere.

    Now, though I intend on using logical reasoning in why these disappearances happen, doesn’t mean my imagination isn’t lapping up the curious tendencies that bring on a blaming of gremlins, hobgoblins, and tricksters.

    And I glimpse into my past trying to nab at those serialized episodes of Bugs Bunny, the tenacious and ornery gremlin that caused so many anxious childish worries, then I lead into Shatner and his quivering alarm while the ghoulish gremlin tears at the plane mid-flight. Or Anansi and the talking melon, or the trickster Puck and his salacious quips that drove the Midsummers characters toward their detriment.

    Thing was I lost my keys, that’s why I drive this point, and it’s funny to think that though I mentioned there’s a logic that I tried to use, the characters that I’m referring to in the chaos of losing things when we know they’re not lost. Then having to address the I have MS and my cognitive short-term memory is shite, my ADHD is not much better, and it’s not like I’m going to leave a note for where I put my keys down because I usually put them in my pocket or a hoodie.

    Turns out my son had them, why? My assumption is he was trying to help and put things away, grabbed the hoodie with keys and didn’t notice or hear them drop between the couch and cushion. The fact though, it was something very real and something blatantly as a-matter-of-fact present. And I like to think that even though we know there’s the logical aspects and reality to the situation. Though there’s always a thought of that trickster, the gremlin, hobgoblin, and what have you, reality is quite literal when causality is in play.

    I wouldn’t mind Puck, maybe Anansi, just leave the tricks at home and bring the coffee is all I ask.

    C’est la vie.

    Good night, Good morning. Good morning and Good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Seventeen, January 17th, 2024

    I’d say sorry but I don’t know, we’re all human, we make mistakes, and depending on medications we deal with depression. That’s where I’m at right now, I am pretty sure I’ve been dealing with depression since probably the second or third week after my first infusion. There are times where I feel okay and then other times overly emotional overly moved however I know I’m a sappy person I know I moved by the wind if it’s just right or the right sound in a song or a cute heart touching moment between father-son mother-daughter family what have you anything having to do with the wonderful perspectives of love and life shared that moves me but I don’t know there’s a pit. And that pit just slowly feels like it’s gaining momentum enough that it’s even messing with my time, not time dilation or any issue like that. However, observing just my reality, I don’t know, maybe it is time dilation or an observance of things expected to be faster or slower. Again that notorious thing I’m going to say consistently and likely incessantly for people who do read continuously with me I don’t know. And god do I wish I did know.

    I had my brother-in-law come over and paint. side note: I’m not his biggest fan, and it came from his direct request to paint with me.

    Now for me painting is an unleashing from whatever is holding me, whether it be my own doubts, fears, anxieties, what have you. Painting, writing,and art help me transcend beyond those aggravating circumstances that just come with life.

    And so I gave him what he needed, canvas,acrylics, paint brushes,some cups of water, gave him some details to make sure he didn’t do, just to make sure that what he was envisioning would be able to be produced on canvas. I set myself apart outside of the art studio and sat painting the face that I’ve shared a few times and I felt… nothing.

    I still love the art, I still love making art, I just feel like I’m falling in a hole and it just feels that it is getting bigger and wider. I’ve got a laxed spouse who will chime in on knowing depression is a side effect of the Ocrevus and that’ll be that. And the brother who will probably share an ear or a meaningful apology for whatever I’m dealing with but I just feel lost and I’m not lost. At least I have my goals, I have my projects, my school work, those assignments documented. I have everything being recorded or noted in my passion planner I don’t know.

    Anyhow the painting time was alright, music clouded the air, B.I.L finished his piece, and there was still a stagnancy to the day. Looking for points of brightness where the darkness shrouds and just trying to figure it out day by day.

    Good morning, Good night, Good night, Good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Sixteen, January 16th, 2024

    Note: I had this waiting in drafts, thinking I already posted. Sorry.

    Good morning, Good afternoon, Good evening,

    Are you one for a joke? Or are you the nonsensical type. I was never one who was good with jokes, even today my spouse continues to tell me how horrible at jokes I am, I don’t know if it’s that there comes a ghoulish humor and overtone I don’t know. Humor and I feel is something very much like art, it’s to be observed and considered by whoever’s perspective and whatever perspective it may be. There may be an essence of humor, it may not be funny. It all depends, right?

    Honestly, if I see somebody trip and then fall, the first thing I’m going to say is oh my gosh I hope they’re okay. I’m not one for violent “comedic” accidents, there is always the concern of the person that I just saw in a video, thinking ‘are they okay, are they breathing, did they possibly lose a limb, their eyeball’ who knows? But humor is something that I find has too much of an opening for being damaging and more than harmful.

    Even with family, pushing it too far, laughing maniacally while a child is getting popped in the face after a swatting at a moth fluttering off from that wounded kids mouth. Or twins falling from the bunk bed landing on jutted out metal radiator fixtures, but the fall had enough humor, it’ll lap up the blood. Mind you, I’m not talking about stand-up, that’s an art. Anyhow…

    Maybe this is coming from a history of being picked on and consistently teased and nagged on for, essentially just living, being me. And there’s a conundrum, because I remember friends telling me ‘it’s just so funny because you make it so easy’, or ‘you take everything so seriously’, or ‘you’re so sensitive’. But that’s it, I am being me, same as with these daily journals, these daily drops whatever they are, it’s a 100% true depiction of who I am, how I think, and how I feel.

    I appreciate humor, and I appreciate comedy, but I feel that even with the laugh, there’s a daunting reality that no matter how joyous and happy we may be real life is right there knocking on the door trying to remind you that the laundry monster is still gaining momentum the floor still need to be swept kitchen mopped bills paid hours punched in. I don’t mind the reality maybe it’s a matter of relying on the humor that it becomes egregious and just not funny I don’t know. Also side note the I don’t know is going to be continuous because there are a lot of things I don’t know and I don’t think it’s an issue stating that you don’t know I think it’s humble or humbling. Never do I want to be a know-it-all, I just want to learn and continue to learn.

    Good morning, Good night, good-bye.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifteen, January 15th, 2024

    These days sits as a testament to a great and humble beacon for those that press on, for those who heard his speech, and saw the peace that issued throughout the protests and the ways those that followed paid tribute through silence and peaceful protest.

    I sit here on this day wondering what he thinks looking on. Does he weep? Does he clench and wring his knuckles at the heavens in spirit? Is he dismayed by a future that is too close to what he was fighting against, that the changes show too little? 60 years since Selma, since Parks, and the speech that moved mountains. 60 years and I stand ashamed that we as a nation are becoming something shameful and much more than what was seen then, because we know better, we have shown better, but there are those that cringe at change, cringe at the opposition of beauty and love because they choose fear to keep so many the same.

    Make a stand, make a change, never forget that dream, never forget those words, as they still stand as a beacon for so many, so many youth, so many fearful and needing freedom. Don’t shy from changes, embrace it, and fight for what’s right, for what’s fair for all, for everyone. We all breathe the same air and bleed the same red. Let’s be here for each other and let our grace and peace be what loves mountains, not through violence and ignorance but through grace and love, love, love.

    Good night and Good morning, good morning and goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fourteen, January 14th, 2024

    A dichotomy: a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different.

    Marriage, is it a dichotomy, or can it transcend the juxtaposition of what opposites attract; chaos?

    This is a question I want to address through a careful perspective with an unbiased peer through. What is believed and what can be considered growth or a place that creates an ouroboros of the most convoluted meanderings that become more dizzying and nonsensical than mature and reasonable?

    Is it possible or does the heart stand as a tenuous and elastic rubber and that will ricochet leaving all wounded internally eyeing the exits without reason, without an explanation?

    Who wants life without answers?

    Goodnight Good morning. Good morning goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twelve, January 12th, 2024

    Listening to Teddy Swims – Lose Control, Ray Lamontongue – Such a Simple Thing, and Zach Bryan’s h Something in the Orange.

    I engorged on asian treats and the usual typical favorite dishes at China Lantern. In Georgetown ice cream or custard from Culver’s and just continue to eat and eat and eat I did this all day yesterday the 12th I persisted and continued and continued to eat, and well, I got to that point of near complete discomfort, and my body when dealing with sugars becomes a stupefied mass of myself.

    One thing that I don’t like about what I was addressing on the 11th there is a domino effect and it’s something I’ve noticed since the diagnosis of the MS collecting oneself and getting back to your original set plan or goals takes a massive amount of time.. one of the largest issues of distraction is I’m still waiting for my passion planner to get here it was supposed to be here this last week but apparently was held up in shipping word is it’ll be here next Wednesday so I got to do more planning and simple composition notebook thing is I have probably five or eight lying around throughout my office and the house let’s see if I write in the right one

    It’s also something I appreciate about falling or taking a messed up it leaves us what? An opportunity. Though I don’t like losing track and I am aware that it happens more often that I care to admit sometimes, but what I do like about the opportunities of Miss stepping or hitting a wall at times, is it truly does leave this opportunity to reflect and reconfigure.

    Day 10 of first Portrait using acrylic

    So we go on we start out obviously not day one-start again: part 2. But we start again and we aim on being better than you were yesterday and the day before and the day before that always intending on being the best that we can be, the best I can be. What I’ve noticed is with the insertion of true intention and the demand for maintaining said intention as in my intention is to be a decent and better man than I was yesterday, or I choose to be the best person I can be that I can be. This is a start so day 12 sorry it’s late have a good day I’ll see you.

    Good night, good morning, good morning, good night,

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Ten, January 10, 2024

    I hate my job. And though my assumption is there are multiple people who say that on a daily. Here’s the kicker ticker, I don’t know, I genuinely love my job. I love being able to tend to people who truly need, and being able to assist with their medical needs brings absolute joy. Especially when I hear the sigh of deep relief and the gratefulness for actually being heard and being seen or empathetically valued for the humanity that each patient is. The pay is shite and the teams are…boring I guess. They introduce themselves as readers and thinkers and yeah we’re taking care of patients but it doesn’t mean that there can’t be conversation about literature or really anything obviously safe for work. There just seems to be a mute-cap over us. can we not have stimulating talk anymore, nowadays. I share that I’m an artist I even share some productions of work and things that I’ve finished, even proud of and compliments aplenty but that’s it. They don’t share anything they do it’s dogs, cats, pets, a recipe, and addressing the weather. I don’t know if it’s an anti-tit-for-tat kind of community I don’t know maybe it’s because it’s a work-from-home kind of job, I don’t know.

    Anyhow, this is my dump; this is my Wednesday hump day dump where like most days, I share my thoughts, the stresses, observations of life, and lessons learned, learning, and what have you. My art just keeps pouring it and I love being creative it revives the spirit instills hope and motivates a change in myself. But I came to wanting a challenge and brought myself a one I’ve been anxious for creating my first actual portrait in acrylic paint. I’ll share one picture from each month, the last three months and tell me what you think, I’d love to share and post more, and would love some feedback.

    Space Eviscerate – April 2023
    SkyScape – May 2023
    La Llorona in The Red Forest – September/October 2023
    Blossom and The Spider – November 2023
    Calling – August 2023
    The Calling Moon – November2023
    Catching the Light – November/December 2023
    Day 1
    Day 2
    Day 3
    Day 4
    Day 5 and 6

    The above work you’re seeing is a stab at portraits that I’m taking on. The thing is I love faces and the textures and elements of detail that make us separate. So I’m using acrylic on black canvas and staying

    Nosce Te Ipsum

    Reference: Do this first thing in the AM to start your day off right. https://lifehacker.com/work/start-your-day-with-a-brain-dump

  • Day Nine,January 9th, 2024

    So today is more or less I guess quote day Tuesdays will be quote day and honestly I’ll probably just bring quotes in every time I find something that is either revealing upon just what I see what I obtain and how I observe or the likes of just what it is to be I guess what we are human.

    This one is one that I’ve definitely written down more times than once again from a stoic there is something I appreciate about the accountability of being aware that at some point our decisions will come to an end our lives will be done and what decisions and steps and actions we make from birth to that end not only sets us either within Grace or far far from it.

    “We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them.” –Seneca

    Now if you would, like I do on most days, really when I read anything, I ponder, I let my brain try to absolve within the words that I’ve collected and not insert myself into that quote directly, but take from it into my own perspective, my own actions, and how often I complain.

    But ask yourself do you complain are you like so many others kind of matching that quote? I know I am, and I’d gladly and willingly take accountability to that. I b**** and moan about difficulties with nfts the dichotomy of Art and digital art and how, though they’re so much the same, there is such a sensitive divide between those that take action with their own hands through both angles or through just one and then the way they spit on one another. And yet they’re both art and the art that is stemming from whether it’s their own or what they saw or what they remembered and how they were raised. It’s another argument that has to do with free will is it actually their creation or is it a creation from an idea that they saw from Van Gogh, Hussar or O’Keeffe? What takes away the originality and Independence of creating art when it’s all art? Whether it’s digital, whether it’s physical, whether it’s a painting. It’s something using Adobe and a bunch of other things that are all using a computer system and coding but oh wait I’m doing the same thing with my brain aren’t I? We are using a computer within and outside of ourselves, how is there truly, how is there a difference or is the ego jumping into the way of that argument, know what I mean?

    So I asked this question because I have just been Grace with the opportunity to make good amounts of money to the point where if I do it right I can legitimately pull myself out of the working 9:00 to 5:00 type of job. All to have the freedom to provide for myself, for my family, and be present with my son every day while also doing school, getting to make art, and write.

    So the question is was this though I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of questions in this day nine. Do I take the jump? Do I take the risk and take the chance?

    I’ve asked two people make that three however the third I have yet to get a response one tells me to be cautious the other one tells me they know very little and wish me luck while the other is an artist and I feel I’m not getting an answer because well maybe the reason is sensitive or maybe the fact that it’s my sister who is also an artist doesn’t want me to know those steps without being involved. I don’t know I don’t know the questions there and I’m kind of at a ‘Hit or Miss by Odetta thinking.

    Signing out thinking about taking the jump making my first minting of something I truly created by myself and truly enjoyed and loved and thinking about making the opportunity of changing my life. I don’t know this is day 9 this is day 9 of a new year of change and the rest of my life what should I do?

    Goodnight and Good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum