"Goodbye 2015"

            I know that I've been lazy about posting on here outside a poem here and there, but since Halloween, it's been nuttier than a fruit cake at my house. Some days, I barely have time to type out a grocery list. With the new year less than 3 days away, I find myself struggling to motivate myself to write anything outside of this blog

post. To make matters worse, I got a lot of technology I need to configure or repair, including a full restore of an old desktop sitting to me.

           

            So, this week, I'm going to finally get all the geek work out of the way so when 2106 comes in, I can finally get some goals done:

Goal #1 - Finish the total editing of my 2nd novel. I would love to put it out by 2017.

Goal #2 - Try to hit 50,000 words in 3rd novel. I'm not going to attempt finish it in one year, but if I can, even better. I've learned stressing when there's no deadline makes the words come out forced.

Goal #3 - Lose some weight. Yeah, I'm a little fluffy in the middle, and would love to lose a few...fifty....pounds or so...

Goal #4 - Write some more technology posts. I'm dying to go back to Windows 10, and write my thoughts on it. I was running it for a week, but was forced back to Windows 7 due to a major program issue.

Goal #5 - Try to post here at least weekly. This blog does make a great way to some times break a mental block, and I plan on using it more.

So, in case this is the last post of this crazy year, I hope everyone had a good holiday, and hope for the best in 2016.

           

"The Christmas Gift"

-"The Last Score"

Stumbling through the darkness
My mind a constant state of haze.
My soul filled by Hate's murkiness.
As I walk down the back alleyway.
I finally make it back to the house.
My veins are craving an injection.
I stare down a random girl's blouse
As I look over her needle collection.
The heroin flowing inside my brain
As I feel the high I've been chasing.
However, I feel very intense pain.
My body shakes; my heart is racing.
The needle shatters upon the floor
As I feel my entire body go numb.
She quickly heads to the front door.
As I fade away, she calls me scum.
My last memory is the flash of light
As I struggle to take my last breath.
Another loser overdosing overnight.
A burden of society taking by Death.

-"The Phoenix Arises"

Wake up totally confused
Lying on a cold tile floor.
As a thousand questions
Run through my head.
Where the fuck am I?
What the hell happened?
Why can't I feel anything?
Why am I cold and naked?
My mind racing for answers
As it tries to comprehend.
Looking at scars on my arm.
Wondering what happened.
I rub my hand across them,
And watch as they disappear.
A white liquid oozing out
As I stare in total disbelief.
Begin to wonder if I'm dead.
Few memories of my last hit.
Flood inside my chaotic brain.
I died on that apartment floor.
I feel more alive than ever.
A phoenix rising from ashes.
Been giving a second chance.
Praying I don't fuck this up.
I pull myself off the floor,
And find a pile of clothes.
I put them on as I see dawn.
I head over to the window.
As I watch the sun break,
I realize I been resurrected.
I look down at my left arm.
Needle marks have vanished.
Instead of destroying my life,
I vow to save the damned.
I head out of the apartment,
And rejoin this living city.

-"The Miracle"

Inside the park, shots ring out.
As the crowd flees and shouts.
A mother breaks down crying
Her young son lies there dying.
I know it's too risky to display,
But this child won't die today.
I lay my hands on his injuries.
Hoping to end this boy's misery.
My entire body begins to glow.
Gushing blood no longer flows.
The child stands up unharmed.
As I collapse, pain in my arms.
The crowd falls into total silence
Only hearing approaching sirens.
Some fall to their knees and pray.
Others are unaware of what to say.
A few manage to string these words:
A miracle in the park has occurred.
One hundred people, maybe more.
Begin to compare me to The Lord.
As I slowly pull myself to my feet.
Crowds beginning to fill the street.
The word of my actions spreading
As the mother tears keep shedding.
The sun is blocked by rain clouds,
I disappear within the large crowd.
I want them to not know my name
For I'm not doing this for the fame.
I finally escape them in the subway,
And try to enjoy the rest of my day.
Back to my apartment that evening.
Knowing a mother stopped grieving.
The news keeps replaying the story.
Tempting me with promise of glory.
An unknown savior is what they claim.
I turn off the TV as I cry out in pain.
I fall to the floor as my arm is burning.
The needle scars are slowly returning.
My eyes blinded by the flash of light
I pass out overcome with sheer fright.

-"The Stranger"

I wake up surrounded by feathers.
A strange woman cladded in leather
With a look of anger across her face.
I try to stand up; she pins me down.
With her large wings to the ground.
She states, "You are such a disgrace.
Giving these powers for evil intent,
Yet because of your act, I was sent.
To show you what they can truly do.
You were not giving this gift to heal;
A demon to make the humans kneel.
There is a test you will go through."
She finally lets me get off the floor,
Out of my mouth comes a long roar
As I watch my skin change to scales.
"We are going to this place of death
So you can repay your overdue debt.
Going to possess the souls of the frail."
A circle of fire encloses us from below.
A minute later, standing in the snow.
Outside a hospital emergency room.
"This is where your powers belong;
Not to save some child by the pond.
Bring the sinners to their eternal doom."
I try to fight back, but my body froze
She is in my mind with total control.
To the doors I march despite crying.
I enter the hallway knowing my fate.
I pray they escape before it's too late.
Refusing responsibility for them dying.
"Leave now!" I shout causing turmoil.
They flee and her blood begins to boil.
I may be going to Hell; I will go alone.
I feel my entire body begin to shake.
As her demonic powers are fully awake.
My refusal to let my powers be shown.
"Your mistake will put you in a grave.
Your soul forever will be my slave."
As I hear her voice leave from my head.
"Must unleash Hell on Earth tonight,"
She shouts. "They tremble with fright"
A voice states, "They shant be dead!"

- "Angel Versus Demon"
A man dressed in green scrubs
Is heading down the long hall.
"There will be no black magic
Within these hospital walls."
"You are a fool that will die
For being brave," she hisses.
"No one in this wretched place
Can even stop this mission."
He now stands in front of me,
And places his hand on mine.
"You are free of her control.
She is no longer in your mind.
You can use your gifts freely.
However, refrain from killing.
There is already enough blood
On the streets that is spilling.
Now, I will take care of her,
As you make the right choice.
You can either be condemned,
Or go out and find your voice.
I stress you leave while you can.
Don't want to die in the crossfire.
This battle is between her and I.
I will banish her back to the fire."
I make my way into the hospital
Realizing my last ungrateful act.
I do not care what will happen
For me there is no turning back.

- "The Gift"

Inside their ICU ward,
The children are asleep.
I look at one clipboard;
Begin to silently weep.
If I die saving them all
A sacrifice worth taken.
Towards Hell I will fall.
My soul already forsaken.
I touch every single head
My body begins to fail.
I know I'm already dead,
My skin is turning pale.
As I make to the last one,
Their only Christmas present.
The power of love has won,
I will leave without regret.
My body begins to glow;
I begin to fade from sight.
Under the moonlight snow,
They received life tonight.
I had made many mistakes.
That had doomed my soul.
Left with a heart free of ache.
These children will grow old.
The moral of my life story
Is to always use your gift
Not to gain fame or glory,
But to make a soul uplift.

"Chaotic Thoughts"

Mr. Undertaker, dig another grave.
To rest these tired, aching bones.
Doctor, please give me a jacket.
My sanity has kicked the bucket.
The older we get, the harder life is.
Aging softens us right in the middle.
The energy of youth; always broke.
Replaced by exhaustion and debt.
A man asked me for redemption
While holding a fifth of cheap rum.
Telling me of hints and allegations.
Asked me why my attention is gone.
Mr. Undertaker, dig another grave.
To rest this chaotic mindlessness
Doctor, please give me a jacket.
My sanity is fleeing this country.
Feel like life is a cartoon at times
As it begins to rain cat and dogs.
Anvils are now being delivered
The mad cows reciting poetry.
Chaotic thoughts are now frozen.
Normal is the tie-died elephant.
Sleep refuses to return any calls.
Life is about surviving complexity.
Mr. Undertaker, dig another grave.
To release this confused elder soul.
Doctor, please give me the jacket.
My sanity is returning back home.

"Madness"

Lost amongst the glow of LCD's.

Counting cyborg sheep to sleep.

A single byte in a petabyte of code.

Caught behind a firewall of selfies.

Blue dresses and red coffee cups

Causing an overload on the servers.

As the real issues are swept away

In a flood of false posts and memes.

Logic and hope are now a fantasy.

Anger and ignorance breeds wildly.

An empty clip is the path to infamy.

While the real heroes go on ignored.

We put stupidity on a glass pedestal;

The cure for cancer locked in a cell.

Skin keeps getting thinner and thinner.

A solitary word cutting down to bone.

The world connected by digital veins;

Our hearts are grossly disconnected.

The clock of war keeps ticking down.

One trigger pull before fallout happens.

Ending in a sky full of mushroom clouds.

The cold war is now burning intensely.

No longer between two super nations;

Between everyone regardless of creed.

When will all this madness finally end?

I pray before it all ends in a bright flash.

"From The Shadows"

The sky turning blood red.

Fires burn across the land.

From graves, rise the dead

Guided by the wizard's hand.

The crown has been sieged.

All the warriors been slayed

Castle walls are breached.

Innocents dying by the blade.

Howls come out of the east.

The wizard stops in his track.

From the woods, wild beasts

Beginning their vicious attacks.

A maelstrom of fangs and claws

Shred through the undead flesh

Their flesh burns inside my jaws

But I push forward on my quest.

The wizard hurls a magic spell;

I tackle him down to the ground.

His staff releases the fires of Hell,

But his heart, my claws have found.

As his blood begins to freely flows,

My face becomes completely pale.

His deceased body starts to grow

As his skin turns into steely scales.

I let out a howl of defeat at the sight.

A battle is about to be all for naught.

I feel my courage fade into the night.

Countless lives are about to be lost.

A pack of lycanthropes are slained

As the dragon uses his sharp jaws

Torn flesh and blood begins to rain

As we strike back with our claws.

It was a vain attempt before defeat.

The fire dragon has sieged the crown

The kingdom crushed under his feet;

My pack buried in scorched ground.

I leave this letter as my final testament

At noon, I'll be hanged at the gallows

Rebel against a king that is malevolent.

Bring back our lands from the shadows.

10/16/15 Update

I'm just posting a quick update of future posts I plan on writing In the next week or two, I'll be writing a lot of subjects on technology. The first one will be my thoughts on the different word processors out there like Libre Office, Kingston Office, etc. The second one will be my views of Windows 10.  I finally got approved to use Windows 10 at work, and will be installing it over my coming weekend.

"A Woman's Love"

They burst through the door
Whacked out on crystal meth.
The empty casings hit the floor.
His name on her last breath.
I stand over the chalk outline.
The tile stained with her blood.
Her soul in the morning sunshine
Glimmers like dew on a rosebud.
She looks at me with teary eyes.
She knows what my purpose is:
Escort her to the palace in the sky
To live a new life full of eternal bliss.
Sadly, his soul is going downwards.
He played with the fire his whole life.
Now, will reveal he's been a coward.
Choosing drugs over his loving wife.
The love of a woman is an addiction.
One that should cure any man's desire,
And alleviate all of the soul's inflictions.
Misuse it, and burn in damnation fires.

"Being Born"

An allusive dream
An insomniac night.
Many ideas inside
Fighting to get out.
The heart is willing,
But the soul is tired.
Character's are dying.
The blank wasteland.
Words no longer flow.
The river is drying up.
Black hole plot ideas.
Clashing with genres.
A rough draft fading.
Openings falling flat.
A spark of creativity
Igniting like a wildfire.
A plot taking shape,
Characters forming.
Solid opening arises.
A novel is being born.

"Living With Pits"

       As I was tied up in bed yesterday due to a nasty stomach bug, one of my dogs wouldn't leave my side. Granted, she never leaves my side, but it was nice to know she was worried about me. I think she enjoyed a lazy day in bed cuddling next to me. However, as I sat there trying to calm the tempest brewing inside my stomach, there's one thought that stayed on my mind. I was lying next to a "vicious" breed, and all she did was lick my face now and then when her 60lb frame wasn't pressed against me. So, today, with my stomach feeling somewhat better, I figured I would write a short history about my experiences with pitbulls.

      When I was growing up, I used to fear this breed. I listened to all the reports, and never gave them a chance. I always thought they would bite me the instant I tried to pet one. However, over time, my view about them changed. It took a few encounters with certain dogs being a big sweetheart that opened my eyes. Little did I know that one day, I would be a proud owner of three of them.

The first pitty I own is a lab/pit mix named Dixie:

My wife called me concerning one of the two dogs that one of her aunts was trying to find a home for. We were told it was a six month old, female, Lab / Mastiff mix. I agreed to take it in since I heard lab, and also since the other one was a Chihuahua, there was no thinking about which one to adopted.

      After a few months with her living with us, we knew she wasn't Mastiff since she barely grew at all, but got stockier. We had a feeling she was part pitbull, but didn't matter once we knew it was true. Besides barking at everything, she's a very loving, but jealous dog. You can't pet any other dog without her pushing them out of the way. Despite her quirks, she's the first pitty I ever loved, and the one that made me see it's not the breed.

      Two years later, we help raise a litter of pitbulls, and end up keeping an all-white female we named Moloko:

 She's the first full-blooded pitbull that I ever lived with. She's also the first puppy I raised, and she taught me why I never want kids: the endless sleepless nights and the constant picking up of poop. However, as she grew up, she turned out all right. She's the kind of dog that will lick your face off before even think of biting you

      She also taught me why getting dogs spayed is so critical. We had a few offers to sell / breed her when she wasn't even a year old. We got her fixed as soon as we could because we didn't want to deal with puppies ever again, and a few months later, we learned how many pitties already need a good home. Our local shelter was offering free spaying / neutering for pitbulls two months after we had her fixed, and offering free adoptions. We were upset that we could have saved money, but I was glad we did. I didn't want to think about where she or her puppies could have ended up.

      Now, less than a week ago, we did our first true rescue of a pitty. My wife saw a picture of a 3 and a half year-old female pitbull scheduled to be put down at the beginning of October. We went down the next day, and adopted Lily:

       She's a great dog, and so far, is getting along with the other two, plus our three cats. The only downside is she's my shadow. I can't go anywhere without her following me, even into the shower.

      Overall, the point I'm trying to make is don't judge a breed, but look at the owner. We didn't get these dogs to make them the mindless killing machines they can be portrayed as. We got them because they're awesome dogs. I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world, and wish I knew how cool this breed truly is a long time ago. The most dangerous thing about the breed is how bad their farts are. They can peel paint, and you never hear them. My final thought is this: If you want a pitbull or any bully breed, go to your local shelter first. I will never pay some "breeder" $1,000+ for a dog when there's plenty of them looking for a good, loving home.

"Where Is My Mind?"

            Lately, a few people either asked me why do I write, or encourage me to share about my experiences as a writer. So, while cranking this fitting song, I begin to think about when I really put pen to paper, and what kept me wordsmithing till I wrote two full novels. I also begin to think about my future, and where I hope all this typing will take me one day. So, with fair warning, you're about to explore the mind of a crazy man: me.

            As I look back at childhood, I guess I was doomed to put my overactive imagination onto paper. Even as young boy, I would create worlds in my head. I always pictured myself as someone else living in different places. I remember drawing out crude settings onto paper, and picturing myself as one of the characters.

            As time went on, I quit daydreaming as much. I tried to write a fantasy story back in the early 90's, but got discouraged by my siblings. I told my ideas, and they criticized every single one. I realize that siblings will do it, but for some reason, I quit daydreaming, and stopped trying to write.

            I didn't get back into writing seriously till about 2006, or maybe 2007.  I dabbled in poetry a lot during high school, but no stories of any kind unless it was for class. I started a few novel ideas, but never got further than a few pages. I couldn't break that first chapter barrier, and caved-in. So, I stuck to poetry since they aren't as challenge as weaving a reality across 75,000+ words

My first novel (shameless plug link) got started out of boredom. I was sitting at my PC cranking Yellowcard's "Ocean Avenue", and began to write about how eerily silent the neighborhood was considering I was living in South Florida.

            Those first few pages that night finally got me past the chapter 1 barrier a few weeks later, but if I ever posted them, it would be a totally different novel. I learned so much about writing editing that first chapter like ten times. The biggest thing was censoring all the vulgar language. Also, I originally made the main character a giant of a man, which really wouldn't fit the theme the next few chapters began guiding the story.

            As I finished chapter 3, life got so hectic, it was hard to focus on anything with the story. To make matters worse, my childhood imagination started coming back. I began writing so many different novels at once that I was losing focus. I couldn't stay on course to finish one novel. The more chaotic life was getting, the more I lost track of all thoughts.

            The fall of 2008, I ended up leaving South Florida for good. I settled in Ocala, and knocked out the rough of my first novel. In less than two years, I went from chapter 4 to the very last sentence. It seems moving away from the hustle and bustle of a major metropolitan area to a small city allowed me to focus more. I even rewrote the first four chapters a bit to make the plot flow way better. I also finally figured out that I could make the commitment to write a full novel if in the right environment.

            Now, fast forward to today. I'm happy that got one novel on Amazon, and another one in the editing phase. However, I'm back in a major slump. I finished the second novel rough draft back in February, and I'm barely through chapter 1 of the third one. It seems major changes in work and life makes me lose that childhood imagination, and replace it with the bitter adult pill known as stress. The good news is the spark is coming back. I hope to finish two chapters by October.

            I'm going to end this with a few tips I've learned over my years of writing. Here they are in no particular order:

1) If you're having issues focusing, disconnect from the internet. I've wasted hours on Youtube instead of writing.

2) If this is your first attempt at crafting at a novel, I say finish the rough first before worrying about covers, agents, publishers, etc, etc. The more things you stress over before even putting words into the file mean you'll never finish the story.

3) I've been tinkering with PC's for 20 years now, and this is the honest truth: It's imagination that makes one a writer, not the technology they own. As long as it can open and modify Word files, you got enough technology. In fact, here are my guidelines about writing technology.

4) Music is the one thing I can't live without when typing. I always find it best to find a CD or song that fits the mood and theme.

5) Spellchecker is not a true editor.  Hire one if you really serious about getting your novel printed.

6) Pencil and paper are still the best way to hash out roughs. I wrote pages on paper when I was struggling at the keyboard.

7) Social Media, as I've learned, is a great way to meet more authors. Most of my Twitter account is fellow writers.

8) Do not spam over social media. Yes, we're proud you finished a novel, but no, we don't need to see the link every five minutes.

9) Write sober. I refused to get in the mindset I can only write when I'm under the influence.

10) Overall, the main thing is to never lose the enjoyment of creating your own universe to share with other people.

Until next time, keep on writing.

           

"Winds of Change"

Life is not all smiles;
Filled with sunshine.
So many damn miles
Are faced with denial.

    This is what I began writing this morning. As I look at it, I realize I'm painting a portrait of a depressing life. Yeah, my life is nowhere near where I imagined it while I was still in high school. Do I regret some of the decisions I made since I graduated? Yes. Then again, hindsight is 20/20, but looking in the past will blind you from the future unfolding right in front of you because hiding in the shadows of your past will never let you see life unfurling in the light of destiny.

    Sadly, I keep hiding in this darkness of regret and fear. I keep coming up with so many excuses that I'm creating a wall of doubt instead of building bridges to move forward, and achieve any dream I still cling onto within my heart. The more I dwell on where I am, the more I realize I'm letting my biggest worry consume my life. What I need to do is swallow my pride, and expose my soul to chaotic uncertainty. To make that leap of faith into the life I seek, not hold on to the stable ground anxiety has me clinging onto for
dear life.

    In the end, only I can make changes to find the path that will lead to eternal happiness. Life is about what I make it to be, and until I accept this, it will stay the mundane experience it is so far. I have to quit being afraid to switch things up. In other words, when you find that life is getting boring, face the tempest of chaos to escape the drought of humdrum you created. The winds of change to bring the rains of hope will never reach your spirit until you tear down the walls created by fears and doubts.

"The Jungle"

A jungle made from concrete

Sweltering in the summer heat.

Another damn sleepless night.

There is not any relief in sight.

Warm beer on the fire escape,

I curse myself for being awake.

My last joint I begin to smoke

As slumber attempts are a joke.

The morning sun begins to rise

It is irritating my insomniac eyes.

Can hear the city begin to awake.

As I sit there completely baked.

I look down at the flood of suits.

Ties they wear are a fancy noose.

To suckle from the CEO's udder

Buried by the greed-filled blubber.

Their souls fueling the profit's fire,

An empty shell when they do retire.

Broken dreams filling their wallets,

And not a dime inside their pockets.

They work to live, and live to work

While their slave drivers only smirk.

Were meant to live for much more.

To be free; not a corporate whore.

“Bloody Drunk”

Cigarette smoke fills the air.
Inside this dimly lit barroom.
Whiskey drowns their cares;
They slide deeper into gloom.
As they slip into drunkenness,
My mouth begins to salivate
As I begin to feel gluttonous.
The sheep will be decimated.
A drunk falls, and cuts his hand.
The smell drives my inner beast.
I rush over to the plastered man,
On fresh blood, I begin to feast.
I drain him as the patrons panic.
Terror in their eyes as they flee.
Slight whispering about satanic
Trembling with fright before me.
Emptying their blood one by one,
I notice the room begins to spin.
After the seventh victim is done,
I'm drunk inside Tavern McFinn's.
I should have known it was risky
Making a meal inside an Irish pub.
The blood full of beer and whiskey.
I ended up puking into a bathtub.
Needless to say, after that night,
I never visited another damn bar.
For the booze gave me a fright;
 The cursed sun left me scarred.

"This Pilgrimage "

Always filled with regret,
And focused on the past.
Their future was never set,
But their dreams faded fast.
A path of discarded hopes.
Hearts shattered with fears;
Entangled by Worry's ropes.
Souls drowned in their tears.
Every decision a small step
Towards the new ambitions.
Never stop till nothing's left;
Don't worry about a decision.
Life will always be a mystery
Unraveled over time's passage.
As we leave a mark on history
On this pilgrimage of challenges.
In the end, never lose the faith,
And don't dwell on any strifes.
When we reach the pearly gates,
Smile due to you living a full life.

"The Goal"

Life is a never-ending race.
After our goals, we chase.
As our hearts keep beating,
Dreams are worth believing.
Hope might seem to be gone
When everything goes wrong.
Doubt consuming your soul.
Leaving you feeling its cold.
Break free of its icy prison;
Remain focus on your vision.
Creative flames still burning.
Your ideas keep on churning.
Keep struggling until the end.
The reward is worth it, friend.
True success is not overnight
Don't give up without a fight.
When I finally leave this place,
I shall with a smile on my face.
That no matter what I've done,
I will finish the goal I've begun.

07/13/15 Update

I know it's been awhile since I've updated this with anything, but to be dead honest, life is killing all creativity. I'm hoping August improves to the point I can focus on my writing, and maybe make some more posts. Well, depends if Fate decides to through my a proverbial curve-ball. Until then:

Life is a never ending race.
After our goals, we chase.
As our hearts keep beating,
Dreams are worth believing.

"Our Choice"

Life is lined with tragedies.

Paths filled with sadness.

We face a chaotic reality;

Begin embracing madness.

Fear is our souls' guidance.

Anger is our hearts' voice.

As we listen to war's sirens,

Peace is no longer a choice.

Lies injected into our ears

Like they are digital heroin.

Media preying on our fears.

Most obey without questions

Bullets dispensed like candy.

Death counts keep on rising.

Politicians think it's all dandy.

As they ignore children crying.

Generations of electronic sheep

Feed on technological nurture.

Voices are replaced by bleeps.

All thoughts guided by cursors.

Our future is a total nightmare.

Hope is now a forgotten dream.

A world choking on the despair.

Hatred muffles the silent screams.

Life isn't filled with all tragedy.

Find a path filled with happiness;

Set course for a Utopian reality.

Rid the world of all this madness.

Hope is the soul's new guidance.

Compassion our hearts' new voice.

To finally silence the war's sirens.

Peace will forever be our choice.

"The Ocean"

Fate is guiding my destiny.
Murphy pulling the strings.
Caught in a storm of agony.
No longer feel Pain's stings.
Life has left me feeling numb.
Everything slowly falls apart.
Reality I long to escape from
To soothe my troubled heart.
All the tears have been cried,
Every pray has been ignored.
My well of empathy has dried
My soul tossed onto the floor.
I struggle to face the morning.
As each day brings bad news.
I'm exhausted from mourning;
Wanting May to be through.
I'm struggling to stay afloat
In the ocean called my life.
Storms try to sink my boat;
Refuse to sink without a fight.
I begin to guide my destiny
As I leave behind Murphy.
Through the storms of agony.
Calmness shall return to me.

"Freely Flows"

A blank canvas
A strayed vision.
A fading dream.
A lost inspiration.
The spark is fading.
The fire dwindling.
Active imagination
Snuffed from stress.
The lost child cries
Creativity put away.
The heart gives up.
A masterpiece lost.
Numb from reality.
The suit is a prison.
Now an empty shell
The living nightmare.
A paint-filled brush.
Releases their soul.
Passion is reignited.
As art freely flows.

    After a hectic week, I found myself unable to put words together to form anything that made sense. Everytime something did take shape, it took a dark turn. This is the first time I was able to write something inspirational. As life is going back to a somewhat normal state, my soul is finally embracing the light. As I said once before, "Poetry is the music of the soul."

"No Regrets"

A smoke-filled bar room.
Idle chatter filling the air.
Drinks quickly downed.
He slowly numb his cares.
Started drinking to forget
No longer for a good time.
His heart filled with regret
He eases his troubled mind.
He finally leaves at midnight,
Stumbling home in the rain.
The memories of that night
Bringing back all the pain.
He ends up near the grave,
And falls down to his knees.
He silently begins to prays.
His  tears begin to flow free.
He lost her over a year ago,
Misses her every single day.
Life sank  to an all-time low.
Wishes she never went away.
I drag him back to his place,
And stay there until morning.
He's dead by the staircase
Passed on without warning.
At a smoke-filled bar room.
Mourning filling the still air.
Drinks are quickly downed.
As I slowly numb my cares.
I started drinking to forget
Pain inside my aching heart.
Tired soul filled with regret.
His memories on my mind.
Two longing souls reunite,
As I find myself still crying.
My cigarette burning bright;
I picture them as angels flying.
I go home on this rainy night;
Empty out all of my cabinet.
I need to play my cards right.
Before I end up in a casket.
I want to join them one day,
Flying amongst the clouds
That time is very long away
I have to make them proud.
I visit their graves at sunset.
Silently pray inside my heart.
That I leave behind no regrets
And join them when I depart.

"I Stink"

Took a hundred baths.

Used five cans of Axe.

No matter what I do,

Still smelling like poo.

Can't escape the reek.

Battling it for a week.

Smell like stinky cheese.

I'm tired of this disease.

Kids run away crying.

Even the flies are dying.

I want to smell very nice,

Not like old rotting mice.

Finally try some gasoline.

To see if I will feel clean.

While washing my crack,

Someone strikes a match.

After the huge explosion,

My curse is finally broken.

I no longer smell like poo,

But I'm now a pile of goo.

"One's Heart"

The midnight moon is shining down
While following the desolate tracks.
We will never return to this hick town.
Cutting all ties and never coming back.
They always treated us like total freaks.
Claiming we're possessed by The Devil.
Their views on the world are antiqued.
We refused to sink down to their level.
Our love cannot be tamed by any man.
Rules should never control one's heart.
The passion guiding us across the land.
To a place where we'll never be apart.
The midnight moon still shining down.
We have thrown caution into the wind.
We're still searching for a better town.
Leaving all the bad memories behind.
We finally settle down in South Florida.
Found us a new place that we call home.
We survived our persecution in Georgia.
Due to our love,we were forced to roam.
We can celebrate romance and be free.
No worries about being judged sinners..
Loving a man is the choice made by me,
And his love makes me feel like a winner.

"Utopia"

Even amongst the chaos,
Order can be discovered.
Within the silence of night,
Symphonies float in the air.
The true forms of happiness
Aren't encased in technology.
They are simple as laughter,
The lost art of conversation.
Pride and greed are demons.
Self–gratification is a disease.
Money isn't the true measure
Of how successful one's life is.
The measure is their wrinkles
From the smiles friends shared.
Despite being so connected,
The world is still disconnected.
Ideas are blocked by boundaries
Created by politics and religion.
We're one species on this planet,
But can't look past what we see.
Close our eyes and open hearts.
Look deeply into another soul.
We can shape a better future.
What Utopia will we create?

"Beyond Gone"

A dark and dreary day
Numbing me to the core.
While wishing it was over.
As it rains outside the door.
Faint knock on the window.
Tiny man wearing a pink tutu
As he drinks some whiskey
From a leather dress shoe.
I open the window and ask,
"What in the world are you?"
"Shut up and come outside.
I'll give you a bloody clue."
I walk onto the front porch,
And get punched in the nuts.
I lay there crying in such pain;
He shows me his hairy butt.
He lets out a very foul fart,
And all I see is dark green;
Foul smell knocks me out,
And sends me into a dream.
I wake up on a brownie bed
Floating in a mayonnaise pond.
I sit on the dessert in disbelief
Wondering if I did hit the bong.
The little man appears in a kilt,
And smacks me with a chicken.
Try to hit him back with a squid;
The brownie boat starts ticking.
I leap onto the shores of jerky
Only to watch the boat explode.
I'm picked up by something wet;
Tossed onto the back of a toad.
I'm awaken to the sound of a fart,
Only to find myself on the couch.
The dog is too busy sniffing away
At the jerky inside a leather pouch.
I stand up, and find myself in a tutu;
Begin to wonder what drug I'm on.
Needless to say, they committed me.
My touch with reality is beyond gone.

"Editing Errurs"

      As I was rereading a blog post last night, I began to cringe at the mistakes. I was embarrassed as a writer at the errors I saw on something I posted online. As I read it a few more times, I figured out why there was so many mistakes. I am a lazy editor on short works.
      I'm beginning to realize the short pieces I write will help me become a more polished writer / editor. I haven't been as dedicated to pieces under 5,000 words as I have been when I  editing my novels. I guess it comes down to one thing: laziness.
     Overall, I need to get in the mindset that the last thing I write could be my last. In other words, look it over with the diligence I do of my novels. My final thought is this: If I keep posting bad posts, no one would take my main writing projects seriously. Anyone else have this issue?

"Keep At It"

    I find myself staring at a blank Word file getting frustrated with each passing second as my mind refuses to form a halfway decent sentence. The only sensible thing I wrote in the past week is the grocery list. Everything else I try to write turns into utter nonsense. The English language is betraying me today to the point it's telling me to give up for the night.
    I turn off the computer, and let out a sigh as I lean back in my chair. I keep thinking about the binder stashed in my desk drawer that need some editing, but I barely have time to sleep some days. Between work and life, my colorful imagination is staying that instead of a black and white reality. I feel like I need a vacation so I can rewrite what's inside the binder.
    As I watch the words flow, I realize I originally was trying to write a short fiction piece. Alas, it seems my mind wants to vent a little. A mind that's been in a creative tempest for the past two years is now sitting idle. I keep the flames alive by forging poems, but nothing will cure the itch as starting the next novel.
    I'm the only one to blame for this creative lag. I keep finding excuses to not begin the rewriting process instead of solutions. Maybe this weekend, I can hopefully begin after finishing the chores that need to be done. I want to continue on with one idea, but I might dust off the notes of another story idea soon. Either way, I must keep writing.

"Still Burning"

Leaving my home in the stars.
From the heavens, I descend.
Wind rushing over my wings.
Earthwards to help a friend.
He has fallen into dark times.
He's about to lose everything.
The Devil controlling his fate.
Hope in his heart is perishing.
Heavy is his crown of despair.
Numbing himself with the pills
His soul has snuffed its flame.
Lack of faith has made him ill.
I find him walking on a bridge.
A bottle of whiskey in his hand.
He climbs over the guardrail.
To escape this prison of man.
I grab his arms and carry him
To the roof of a nearby building.
I stay invisible for a few minutes
Watching his will to live wilting.
"I have no reason to live here!
You should have let me fall!"
"I can't let you die, my dear.
I answered your soul's call."
I make my presence known,
Spreading open angelic wings.
He fells to his knees stunned,
Tugging at my robe's strings.
"Jumping wasn't your answer.
Would have sent you down.
You would have fallen hard,
Land on Satan's playground.
Is ending it worth the torment?
You got so much life in store.
I beg you not to end it now.
Soon, you'll open a new door."
"Losing you hurt me deeply.
My heart shattered by death."
"It was my time to leave here.
Don't let my death end in regret."
Five years later, I return again.
To find the man I always love.
The faith is restored in his heart.
He's going to join me up above.
The love we share will be eternal.
Nothing can extinguish our spark.
My death may have separated us;
Passion still burning in our hearts.

"The Void"

    As I'm hoping to get down to some serious editing this month, I find myself in a huge lull. I sit at my desk most days trying to find anything to write, and it's driving me insane. I've done some new poems, a few short stories, but it's not the same. I'm learning that they don't fill the void in my heart like novel writing does.
    I honestly never thought that one day I would ever write a novel. I've done a lot of poetry, but never a story. It started when I was bored one night at my PC, and started writing anything. It began as a rant about how in an urban area was eerily quiet. Over the next week, I introduced the main characters, and started developing the main plot. I thought the initial rant would guide me towards a horror story, but my mind and keyboard guided me towards a romance story.
    As I began the fifth chapter, I decided I was going to finish the novel, and try to publish it one day. I kept pushing onward, excited as I kept adding another 10,000 words. The day I wrote the last word, I felt like I won the lottery. I completed something so many dream about, but never finish. I wrote a novel, and it was the best experience as a writer I felt so far.
    However, the editing stage began to wear me down. When I begin to edit, I feel like I'm cutting my own soul to shreds. I also began to think how I can improve the entire thing instead of focusing on what really needs to be fixed. I managed to struggle through my first edit, and send it to my editor.
    The second edit is when I really learned how to write. The first thing they notice is one of my lovely quirks. I had at least 800 mentions of the word "just", and was like nails on a chalkboard to them. I also learned why Spell Check is not a true editing tool when they found it replaced mascara with massacre. The more we pushed through the edit, the better I got as a writer and editor.
    That was seven years of hard work for the first one. I still haven't done anything with it besides put in on Kindle, but it was a start. I have plans to one day to see one of my books on the shelf at a major bookstore, but right now, I learned from a few reviewers there's still some fine-tuning needed to be done. So, as I get it polished, I kept writing. I finished the second novel's rough draft in less than two years. I figure I can finish the edits by 2016. Until then, I'll keep whatever comes to mind to fill the void novel writing as left.

"From Flames"

All of my doubts and my fears
Inside my heart were stored.
I broke free from their chains;
Amongst the clouds, I soar.
The weight of this cold world
Was holding my soul down.
Questioning my own worth
Kept my feet on the ground.
I kept looking at the horizon.
While following broken paths.
Now, I soar and gaze at stars
With no desire to look back.
The wings of hope carry me
Towards uncharted territories.
I have moved on from my past;
Look at my future with clarity.
All of my doubts and my fears
Held me back till I overcame.
Freed my soul from its prison.
A phoenix rising from flames.

"Sixth and Main"

The rainy corner
Of Sixth and Main.
The dealer pushes
Escape from pain.
While the homeless
Look for dry shelter.
A woman is fighting
In a bloody sweater.
The city drones on
Ignoring many pleas.
Some battle demons;
Others escape reality.
The bloody corner
Of Sixth and Main
A young child shot.
A bullet to the brain.
Struggles for life
Ends up in defeat.
Hell's flames grow
We all feel the heat.
Rich and the poor
Descending down.
Digging their graves
In scorched ground.
The hellish corner
Of Sixth and Main
The Devil punishes
With his eternal pain.

"A New World"

An idea takes shape.
Sparks the imagination.
Stories begin to flow.
Chapters start forming.
Characters are born.
Plots begin to weave.
Each word is a step
Towards the ending.
Twenty-six letters
Are creating worlds.
Fingers are dancing
Across the keyboard.
A novel takes form
The pages expand.
Discouraged at first,
But we press onward.
The ending reached.
The last word typed.
We sit back and smile.
A new world created.

"Whereabouts"

Whereabouts unknown.
Not sure if I'm going up,
Or spiraling downwards.
Even time is standing still.
All I see is total blackness.
I can't even feel anything.
The only sound is my heart
Beating tells me I'm alive.
I see a flash and free fall.
Towards a tunnel of light.
Wind rushes all around me.
As I wonder if I am dead.
I land into something soft.
Beds made of cotton candy
Next to a caramel stream.
The grass is green lollipops.
The acid trips fades away.
I find myself in a linen closet
Sitting on dirty cotton towels.
Licking on a sheet naked.
Whereabouts are known.
Wishing I was still tripping.
Coming down does suck
While you are in a prison.

"Silent Screams"

Walking in the rain,
All alone and cold.
Passing blank faces.
Cast from the mold.
Words aren't spoken.
Lost in their screens.
On their deaf ears fall
All my silent screams.
Technological senses
Replacing all contact.
The only voices heard
Are media broadcasts.
Easier to ignore a man
Living on these streets.
Make them feel better
As I beg at their feet.
I may not have a lot;
I still have my pride.
Put my life on the line.
A soldier ready to die.
Finally made it home.
Treated as an outcast.
I traveled for freedom
Down to Hell and back.

"Innocence"

Reclaim the innocence;
Return to your youth.
Life is not this serious.
Let stress go to be free.
The removal of a suit.
Shedding of snake skin.
Paychecks are reminders
About our wasted hours.
Tired of working to live.
Always long to run free.
Escape the daily worries
Run though the tall grass.
Return to the innocence.
Remember the lost child.
Laugh to forget a bad day,
And let your soul smile.
Replace desk with a lake.
Give up tablets for bikes.
Let your inner child loose.
And enjoy the innocence.

"The Cape"

    I find myself sitting up in the hospital bed staring out the window at the rising sun. As I look at my bandaged wrists, I feel ashamed that this didn't come to an end last night. I don't know how I got here, but whoever brought me to the hospital, I can't wait to tell them how much I hate them for saving me. Their act of bravery ruined my happiness. They only gave me a second chance to end my misery.
    I lie back down on my bed, and rub my hands across the bandages. Even though I survived this attempt, my mind begins to think of ways to make the next one successful. I didn't want to be saved. I want to make sure the next time I do this; there will be no chance for heroics. After this past year, I have nothing to live for anymore. In my heart, I wish I tried this much sooner instead of enduring the pain I've been through this past year.
    "You were always a wimp," I hear a voice I swear I would never hear again.
    "No fucking way!" I exclaim as I scan my room. There is no chance I'm hearing his voice right now. I watched him die a year ago, yet his voice is clear as day. I quickly dismiss it as a side effect of whatever drugs the nurses gave me when I was admitted into this hellhole. I want out of here so I can end this ongoing torture known as my shitty life.
    "I swore I raised a man, not a pussy," I hear the voice say. "Grow a fucking pair, and face life instead of taking the easy way out."
    "I must be stoned on painkillers or some shit," I sigh.
    "Look in the mirror, dumb ass," the voice mocks me.
    I turn towards the mirror, and fall to the floor in shock. I lay there on the cold tile floor while sobbing, "I can't be seeing him...he's dead..."
    I feel two hands around my neck as I'm quickly yanked off the floor. I find myself staring into my father's steel blue eyes as he holds me up by my neck. I can feel the warmth of his blood as his calloused hands scratch against my skin. He's wearing his red plaid shirt and jeans, the same outfit he took his own life in. The only difference is his hair is no longer gray, but
black.
    "Right now, I'm alive enough to kick your ass," he says as he slams me onto the bed, and knocks the wind out of me. I lay there gasping for air as my dead father holds me down to the point it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest.
    "I...can't...breathe," I mutter between each gasp.
    "What's the matter? You don't want to die by my hands, but want to be a little bitch and kill yourself like I did, son?" he shouts as he punches his right hand through the hospital bed while his left hand presses down on my throat.
    "Hello...kettle..." I gasp as I begin to see dots floating in front of my eyes. "I'm...pot...father..."
    He gets off of me and sits down in the chair next to the bed. I lay on the bed breathing heavily for my deceased father almost ended my life in this hospital room. He lets out of a
sigh as I see tears in his eyes.
    "There's a difference between you and I," he states as I sit up in the bed. "I had nothing left to live for, but you still do."
    "What about me? I'm not a reason to keep on living?" I snap back as I slam my fist onto the bed.
    "I was already dead that night you found me," he replies while wiping away his tears. "You, however, still have a life ahead of you."
    "Bullshit, Dad. You weren't drying!" I shout.
    "You really don't remember?" he asks with a stern tone. "Did your brain commit suicide as well?"
    "Did you crawl out of whatever Hell you live to be a massive prick to me today, or is there a fucking point?" I retort in an angry tone to him while flicking him off. I don't know if this is real or a bad trip. Either way, I don't need my dead father giving me a bunch of shit after the night that I wish I never woke up from.
    "The point of my visit is a reminder," states Dad. "A reminder that if you do end your life, two lives will end."
    "Yeah, let me take advice from someone who decided to increase their lead intake with a bullet to the head," I retort.
    "You really did forget the events of that night?"
    "I came home to find my dead father holding a pistol with blood rushing out of his ear. What did I forget?"
    "It wasn't a bullet that killed me, son."
    "Was it the recoil?"
    "Shut up the fuck up! Use your brain for once, Tony!" he yells. "Look back and recall my last year alive before you say another damn word while thinking about Sarah."
    I close my eyes, and let out a sigh. Once he was put into the ground, I did my best to bury those memories deep within my subconscious. However, last night, they began to trickle free from the mental damn I created. Now, I have to unleashed the tidal wave of emotions I've been holding back to make it through life.
    I begin to think about the night I lost him. I came home from the bar drunk around midnight or so. I went out because Dad and I spent all day in the doctor's office, and I wanted to numb my mind to relieve the stress. I recall stumbling into the living room, and seeing him sleeping in the chair. I saw his 1911 on his lap and the trail of dried blood that started in his ear.
    I begin to cry when I begin remembering that the gun wasn't loaded, and the cleaning kit was on the end table. I was so intoxicated that my mind made a rush decision, and I called it in to 911 as a suicide. I never saw anything through the tears streaming out of my eyes besides the blood on my dad's face and his Colt in his lap. I went numb when I hung up the phone, and never took a deeper look.
    Once the paramedics removed the body and the cops left, I began packing up the essential things my daughter and I needed. I wasn't staying in the house a second longer then I had too. We were vacating that night so I can leave behind the painful memories. From that moment on, I became so numb that I never realized that I've been rushing to conclusions without looking at all the evidence in front of me.
    I also never thought that a year later, I was trying to escape my own failure as a father by doing what I thought went on that tragic day. My father died on his own accord, but here I am trying to end my life without thinking about my own daughter. She's the main thing I have to live for in this life, and without here, she'll become a foster child lost in the system. My dad never abandoned me, and I'll be damn if I'm going to do the same.
    As I look at my old man, I finally realize it wasn't the gun that killed him that night. He passed way from the inoperable brain tumor he lived with the last two years of his life. The man suffered through his living hell, but not once did he try to take the cowardly way out like I did last night. He stayed alive to be there for Sarah and me as long as he could. He's the man I will never be no matter how hard I try.
     "I'm sorry, Dad," I sob. "I'm a failure."
    "No, son, you're not yet. We all fall down, but what makes one not a failure is getting back up, and facing the obstacles in front of you."
    "I never stop to think what will happen with Sarah if I was gone," I say as I wipe the tears away from my eyes. "I'm the only stable person in her life."
    "Well, next time you get this low, think about her," he replies smiling.
    "I will, Dad."
    "Well, my time has expired here, and you need to wake up," he says while standing up.
    "Wake up?" I ask with a confused look across my face.
    As he opens his mouth, the room is filled with a high-pitched, shrieking noise. As the sound increases in volume, the lights begin to rise in brightness to the point I have to close my eyes to shield them from the blinding light. As I close my eyes, I fell myself slowly drift into sleep.
    "Goodbye for now, son," I hear my father say as everything fades to black.
    I jump up so fast I fall back in the wood chair I'm sitting in, landing on the floor with a loud thud as the chair breaks underneath my weight. I let out a groan as my back begins to throb. I drag myself off the floor, and see I'm in my kitchen. I look at my wrist, and see no bandages or any signs of scarring or fresh wounds.
    I let out a sigh for it was all a dream till I see a piece of notebook paper on the table next to an Exacto knife. I pick up the paper, and begin to read it. As I realize what I wrote, I feel the tears stream down my cheeks despite my heart burning in rage.  I'm a tempest of emotions as I read what would have been my last words I written in the world, and not one mentioned anything about my daughter.
    I tear the note up, and shove the pieces into my mouth as the tears keep flowing. I gulp the paper down, a symbolic gesture of me swallowing my pride to take on life and be brave for her. I can't believe I became so selfish that I put my needs before Sarah's. As Dad said, I would have ended two lives tonight, and I can't let that happen.
    I pick up the knife, and carefully wrap it up into some newspaper to cover the blade. I toss it into the trash, and walk out of the kitchen. I quickly head upstairs to Sarah's room. I quietly open the door, and peek my head in. She's still asleep in her bed snuggling onto her stuffed bunny. I close door, and head into my room. I pass out the instant my head hits the pillow.
    "Dad! Wake up!" I hear Sarah shout.
    "Five more minutes," I mumble.
    "Now!" she shrieks.
    "All right," I say as I pull the covers off my head. Out of the corner of my eyes I see my Dad standing over my bed with a big smile on his face.
    "Today is your second chance at life, Tony. Use it wisely," he says before vanishing into thin air.
    "I will," I say as I wipe a tear from eye. My Dad appeared in a dream to save my own life. After all this time, that man will do anything to help me succeed despite me thinking he was a coward for the past year. A vision about my failed attempt at ending life has opened my eyes to how much living I have in front of me.
    "Daddy!" shouts Sarah as she leaps onto my bed. She rushes towards the head of the bed and kisses my cheek. "Wake up!"
    "I'm up, silly. Why are you so excited?" I ask before letting out a yawn.
    "It's Saturday, and you promised to take to me to the park," she whines. "Now, get up!"
    I reach my hand over and tickle her side. She shrieks in delight as I keep tickling her for another good minute before I stop. As she catches her breath, I tell her, "Go get ready so we can go."
    "Okay," she says before jumping off the bed, and rushes out of the room.
    I pull myself out of my bed, and stumble into the bathroom. I quickly get myself ready to take the love of my life to the park like I promised her. I take a glance in the mirror and stare at my wrists. I'm almost tempted to get Sarah's name and birthday tattooed on my wrists as a reminder that no matter how bleak it seems, there's always something to live and fight for.
    I step out of the bathroom, and see her sitting on the bed. I almost laugh for she's a pink dress wearing her red cape. She put her blond hair into a bun with her monkey scrunchie. I'm glad she at least put her sneakers on instead of her swimming fins she loves wearing around the house.
    She scrunches her nose at me and says, "You're not dressed, Daddy."
    I look down and ask, "Why not? My shoes are on, and I'm wearing pants."
    She pulls out a large, red piece of fabric and replies, "You're missing your cape."
    I take the fabric, and see it's a cape, complete with straps to tie it around my neck. On the back, in bold, yellow lettering it reads "Super Dad". It takes every inch of willpower not to cry right now as I put on my cape.
    "Now, you're a superhero you've always been, Dad," she says smiling.
    "After the park, we're so getting ice cream," I reply.
    "With sprinkles?"
    "With whatever you want, Sarah."
    She jumps for joy and tackles my leg trying to hug me. At this point, I break down and cry as I give her a big hug. I give her a kiss on her forehead and whisper, "I will always be your super hero, Sarah. I promise."
    She wipes my tears away with her cape while saying, "Super heroes don't cry, Daddy."
    I stand up and say, "No, they take their daughter..." I
pause for a moment and shout, "To the park!"
    Even though she will never know how close she came to losing me last night. As I follow her as we run out the apartment in our capes, all I can think about is how I don't deserver to wear this cape right now. However the sparkle in her eyes tells me I'll never be a disappointment to her. As long as I keep fighting each day for her, I'll always be the superhero in her eyes worthy of this cape.

"Novel Back Up Ideas"

        After reading about people losing files over the past few days, I decided to write a blog post about backup devices, and my strategy to keep my novel files safe from total system failures. Most of the devices I'll list the average person already has, but there's a few things I do that most people don't even think about.
        Before I begin explaining the technological side of things, there's something I want to really stress: If the file is irreplaceable, have three active back ups at all times. Redundancy is the key to a successful back up plan. I believe you can't have enough back ups if the file can't be restored. I have 6 backups of all my writing files at all times, and at least three are always up to date.
        Now, for some quick terminology in very layman terms (I do ask that you don't be offended if you know this. I write these tech posts to where even a new PC user can understand them):

GB = gigabyte . 1GB is 1,000MB (MB = megabyte) or roughly 700 floppy discs or 1.5 CD's
TB = terabyte. 1TB is 1,000GB or roughly 250 DVD's
USB 2 = Rated at 480Mbit/s or Megabits a second
USB 3 = Rated at 4Gbits/s or Gigabits a second. Both are backwards-compatible aka USB 2 works in a USB 3 port and vice versa.
    Far as the technology goes, the main backup device people have laying
around is the thumb drive. This is an example of a thumb drive:


        The major pros of them are they are very portable, cheap, and don't require any software to use. You just plug them in, save the files to the drive, and remove it. They are the device that finally killed off floppy drives because of their ease of use and bigger storage capacities. They are now available up to 1TB, but the most common sizes in major stores range from 8GB up to 128GB.
        The biggest con with thumb drives is how easy they are to lose. If you do use a thumb drive for a back up, my advice is to keep it in a secure location, and buy another one for traveling. Also, they can get corrupted and / or broken very easily. What I mean by corrupted is you plug it in, the system doesn't see anything on it. Again, they're great for daily or weekly, but not as the only backup.
        The second most popular back up hardware is external hard drive. An external hard drive is what it sounds like: a hard drive in an enclosure. There are two options: 2.5" laptop drive or 3.5" desktop drive. They both have their advantages and disadvantages.
         They both do have one main advantage over thumb drives: bigger storage capacity. A 1TB drive is about the default size to external hard drives. The biggest drawback is there are moving parts inside, so they can get damaged if moved or dropped, especially when plugged in. They are more designed to be left somewhere and never moved. I use my external mostly as a monthly backup to save all my files on my PC: novel files, music, etc.

Far as what they look like, here's an example of a 2.5" drive:



Here's a 3.5" drive:



        The biggest advantage of the 2.5" drive versus the 3.5" is they don't require a power adapter. At most, they will use two USB ports to power the drive. This makes them very portable along with their small size. They average the size of a paperback book. The biggest disadvantage is they are smaller in size versus 3.5" drives, and the lack of connectivity options. The biggest 2.5" drive you can find on the market is 2TB, while 3.5" drives are at 6TB. Also, it's hard to find a 2.5" drive that uses more than USB ports to connect on store shelves.
        Another term you might here for as external hard drives go is NAS or network attached storage. A NAS means it's an external drive or drives that plugged into your modem or router through Ethernet or wifi.  The one I would suggest for typical home use are the external hard drives with an Ethernet port or built-in wifi. The advantage of a NAS is you can access it over your home network, and some offer services for access away from the house.
        Now, when it comes to buying thumb drives and external hard drives, this the rule I follow: I set a max budget, and get the most GB/TB I can get. For thumb drives, I set a budget of $10, which can easily get a 16GB these days. I never go higher than $20, which is easily a 32GB. For external hard drives, I go up to $100 max, which can easily get a 2TB drive, at most $200 if I need it to be a NAS. Far as brands go, I trust Sandisk and Lexar the most in thumb drives, and in hard drives, Western Digital then Seagate. Far as USB2 versus USB3, if you're system has USB3 ports, get USB3, especially for external hard drives.
        Now, the reason for setting a max budget is this: Why get a 500GB drive for $70 when there's a $60 1TB drive is on sale?  I never get my mind set on a certain size before I go buy one because of this reason. If I had to set any rule far as what size, my only suggestion is to get an external hard drive that matches or is double the size of your hard drive if it's within budget.  Far as thumb drives, I rather have multiple smaller drives versus one big one.
        Now, for some of the other ways I do back up outside of thumb drives and my external hard drive:

- SD Cards

        With the cameras on smart phones getting better, digital cameras are slowly being phased out of most households. When I got rid of my digital camera, I ended up with a few 4GB's cards lying around, so I converted one into a daily and weekly backup solution. It's small enough to fit into a wallet, and almost every new system has a card reader built in. The only downside is they are like thumb drives: easily breakable.

- Smartphones

        My current phone has 4GB's of storage space, and it can work like an external drive on my PC. So, installing a ton of apps, I use it as a way to keep my novel files safe. I would lose a thumb drive way before I ever lost my phone. When I do back up to my phone, I do another back up on another device to be safe though. There's always the chance my phone can get destroyed, lost, or stolen.

-CD-RW / DVD+RW

        The old archaic way of storing files still works. This one is hard to suggest since a lot of newer systems don't even come with the drives anymore, and the discs aren't cheap anymore. However, if you do have a drive and the discs lying around, it's another way to protect your work. The biggest drawback is if the disc is scratched, the data is gone. If you do use this type of backup, keep it in a safe place.  I prefer the RW discs because they can be reused versus a typical R discs.
    The other hassle with RW discs is they can be a pain to modify data constantly like you can with a thumb drive. Yes, there are ways to save a new file to an RW disc, but I use them to save my files at a certain point, and erase the disc when I want to make another backup later on.  I mostly burn to a RW disc when I reach a huge milestone, such as finishing the entire novel in whatever stage I'm at: rough drift, first edit, etc. In other words, not part of my usual back up schedule.

- Printer

        Again, I only do this at huge milestones as I list above. I never thought of printing out my work as a back up at first, but an editing technique. I find it way easier to edit on paper versus a screen because I find more things to fix this way. However, when you got the entire novel on paper, you can suffer a total system break down, and still have your work safe.  Granted, you will have to retype it if all your technology goes haywire, but I rather have to retype my novel then try to remember the entire thing.

- Email  / Cloud Storage

        They both serve the same purpose when protecting data. You upload the files to the internet, and they are stored on a server that's not in your home. I started this process during the 2004-2005 hurricane season. Living in Florida, I was affected by four hurricanes during those years, and wanted to get my files away from my house. So, I started emailing myself my files in a password protected zip file to a few email accounts. I even started using Google Drive to store them as well.
        This process makes a great daily back up, but I mostly do it when I finish a small milestone, such as finishing a chapter. I would never rely on this method fully because of the biggest drawback: You need working internet to get your files. However, if you really, really need to save a file to protect it from a system crash or whatever, email it right away. It will be a lot quicker than trying to find a storage device.

"Above The Rest"

Rise above the rest.
Prove you're the best.
It's a fight to the top
That will never stop.
Find your own path.
Onwards, not back.
Life is in your hands,
Not of any other man.
Control your destiny.
Overcome all jealousy.
Obstacles will arise.
Over them, you'll fly.
Rise above the rest.
Prove you're the best.
Stand up and shout;
Topple all the doubt.
You are in control.
Fight to reach goals.
Go out with a roar;
Knock in all doors.
Rise above the rest.
Prove you're the best.
Today is your time.
Let your light shine.

"Reflections of A Stranger"

A glance in the mirror
Reflections of a stranger.
Who am I these days?
Even my eyes deceive.
Gone is that sparkle.
The glimmer of a child.
Replaced by wrinkles
From the stress and age.
Even my own imagination
Beginning to fade away.
Snuffed out by worries;
The cold wind of doubt.
I want to feel alive again;
To be carefree and loose.
To melt away adulthood;
Rekindle my inner child.
A good look in the mirror.
The sparkle has returned.
Creativity begins to flow.
The child is being reborn.

"Be Free"

Fires burn the cities to the west.
Armies march towards conquest.
A kingdom on the verge of war.
Death is outside the king's door.
The king summons for his knights
To begin their attack at twilight.
He rises to offer to his assistance,
But he is told to keep his distance.
"You are the pride of this kingdom.
I refuse to lose you in war, my son."
He lets out a long snort of frustration,
"I can help protect this great nation.
Let me lead them towards victory.
I refuse to let them die for liberty."
He leaves his ailing father's side,
And swallows down his pride.
He grabs his sword and his shield.
His determination will not yield.
He will protect the royal borders
Despite his  father's last orders.
A leader never hides behind walls,
But answers the lone bugler's calls.
He rather die making his last stand
Against the invaders of their land.
He joins the knights on the front line.
Their soldiers amongst the pines.
Our archers let flame arrows fly
Lighting up the entire night sky.
With their swords, they charge
Directly into our fiery barrage.
They fight like they are demons,
But we hold back the heathens.
Alas, he was injured in the battle,
And escorted back to the castle.
Placed in front of the royal alter
In a bed next to his dying father.
Their kingdom has been spared,
But we are losing our king and heir.
The crown broken beyond repair.
Our kingdom now faces despair.
Was it noble valor or foolish pride
That has let the monarchy die?
The prince charged into the fire.
To have the royal bloodline retire.
The land announces the new king
As I hear the church bells ring.
The royal family let us be free
As we begin our life of slavery.

"Insomnia"

I hate having insomnia.

My only relief was coffee.

Working till this evening.

As I wish I was sleeping.

Drinking Mountain Dew

Wish this day were through.

My bed keeps calling me,

But forced to face reality.

My tired eyes are rebelling.

While brain keeps yelling.

Tonight, whiskey to sleep.

I've run out of damn sheep.

Time is slowly dragging on,

And all my caffeine is gone.

Ready to end this damn day,

And sleep exhaustion away.

Counting down the minutes.

Pushing myself to the limit.

Tonight better be good to me.

Sleep better not be a fantasy.

"A Hard Lesson"

Hiding in the dark.

Chilled to the bone.

See the beast's mark

On the wall of stone.

The echo of claws

Followed by howls.

Nature is the law.

Monsters on prowl.

Green glowing eyes.

The smell of blood.

Full moon in the sky.

Paw prints in mud.

They begin to attack,

But quickly withdraw.

Steel wings on my back.

Their leader in my claws.

The pack scurries away

As I reveal my true form.

They learned on this day

Never attack dragon-born.

"My Soul"

She held my heart,

But never my soul.

As we drifted apart,

Her heart grew cold.

We were best friends.

She turned against me.

I didn't want it to end;

Life filled with misery.

She crushed my love,

But never lost the will.

I will keep rising above.

Life cannot stand still.

Been a long, cold year.

The scars are healing,

But can't stop the tears.

My heart is still reeling.

It took a total stranger

To show me love is real;

And my views will change.

One day, I begin to feel.

She now holds my heart,

As well as my very soul.

Love from the very start

As we plan to grow old.

Inseparable and united.

Her love keeps me warm,

Passion's flames reignited,

A perfect union is formed.

"To Be Free"

Jet engines roaring.

Rockets are soaring.

Bombs are falling.

The bugles calling

Boys into a battle;

Slaughtered cattle.

Mother's crying.

Men keep dying.

Falling from ranks.

Blood on the banks.

All over some land

Killing fellow man.

With war, he is done.

As he cocks his gun.

Tired of the killing;

The blood spilling.

Wanting to be free;

Leave this misery.

A bullet to the brain.

Ended a solder's pain.

"The Noose"

The innocence of youth
Forgetting in adulthood.
Hope: the long lost truth.
Strive for a common good.
Life is not measure by time,
But the memories we leave
Ingrained in a children's mind.
The greatest gift they'll receive.
Quit working for the dollars.
Work towards a better future.
Untie the noose; it's not a collar.
Debt is not your ultimate ruler.
Breathe and let stress melt away,
And release your inner child
Be carefree for one whole day.
Let your imagination run wild.
All of us will get old and die.
What legacy will be left behind?
A life of looking up at the sky,
Or a slave working the grind?

02/24/15 Update

After getting an email over adult content, I've dropped the label from my blog. I did it at first because I knew I would post whatever I wanted, and didn't want to hear anything about being offensive. However, over the years, the most vulgar things I post are some curse words here and there, and parts of a demonic horror story. So, from now on, I will label anything that I feel is adult content, such as my "Red Eyes" posts, I will tag them and title them as "Mature".

"Her New Home"

Outside, the lightning crashes.
An old rosary falls to the floor.
I see the woman close her eyes.
As I enter the bedroom door.
Another flame of life snuffed.
Their weathered soul is free.
Their life was hard and rough.
Now, the calmness of eternity.
I guide this newly departed.
To where they belong: Heaven.
She was too kind hearted
To fall for Satan's beckon.
As my angelic wings unfurl,
The soul smiles; I see her cry.
"I'm ready to leave this world,
So my angel of death, let's fly."
We fly above the thunderstorm,
And fly towards the main gate.
I smile, as my face feels warm.
Her new home, Heaven, awaits.

"Novel Technology"

      I've been meaning to do this for a while. First and foremost, I'm a computer geek. I've been messing around with PC's since Windows 98. There's a lot of changes everyday in technology, but very few make a difference when it comes to writing. I'm going to focus on the three tools I will spend the money on as a writer: keyboard, monitor, and printer.  I will also list the software I can suggest as well as what type of computer to get.

      First of all, a good keyboard. As much as I try, I can't stand touch screen typing. Even when texting on my smart phone, I make so many typos, it's not even funny. I can do 50wpm on a keyboard, but drop to 10wpm when on touch screens. It's at the point, if it requires a lot of typing, I will fire up my PC. No way I can write more than a paragraph on a touch screen regardless of size.

      Now, far as what keyboard to get, I suggest a good mechanical keyboard.  A mechanical keyboard uses a different technology than your typical keyboards. They widely use Cherry MX switches instead of rubber domes found on cheaper keyboards, so some do make a very audible click while typing. They honestly do make you type better because the keys require force to engage, and are way more durable: each key is rated for 50 MILLION keystrokes.

      Now, there are four major Cherry MX switches out there: Red, Black, Brown, and Blue. I'm just going to give a quick summary of each. For more technical details, there's a ton of videos and summaries out there already. Here they are in order:

- Cherry MX Red

These are the preferred gaming keys. They require the least force to engage the key, and don't make an audible click. 

-Cherry MX Black

Same as Red, but a more force required.

-Cherry MX Brown

More force required, but don't click. The Browns are the start of the true typist keyboards in my opinion. When you press the key down, you feel a bump.

- Cherry MX Blue

Same as Brown, but do make the click and require the most force out of the four to type on. This is my preferred MX switch.

      The two biggest downsides to mechanical keyboards are the cost, and you can't find them in majority of stores. They start at $100 online and go upwards. Newegg and Amazon carry a good selection of them, so I would start. Far as stores that might carry a few in stock, you have to go to stores such as Fry's, Best Buy or Tiger Direct. If need be, they do sell switch testers online for about $20 that will come with four to six switches so you can figure out which one before you make the plunge.

      My suggestion far as brand is DAS. They make no frills standard keyboards, as in no lighted key, extra gaming keys, etc. Then again, I bought this keyboard for typing only, so I didn't need any extras. The DAS Company even makes one with no symbols on the key if you really want to test your typing skills. The other brands that are reliable are WASD, Rosewill, and Corsair.

The second technology item I focus on is the monitor and/or monitors. I'm not going into a ton of details, but my dream writing system is two or three of this screen sitting on my desk:

http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16824260047&ignorebbr=1

Here's why:

1) Good size: 24" to 27" I think are the best screen size for word processing.

2) Pivot: I can rotate the screen from landscape to portrait mode.

3) Resolution: 1920X1200 is the sweet spot for typing. Anything higher, and the font is too small. Anything smaller, and you lose workspace. 1920X1080 is about the lowest I'm willing to go these days.

      Far the wanting of at least two is due to the fact I find having multiple screens makes multitasking so much easier. I normally have my word processor open on my main screen, and my music and notes on my secondary screen. Also, I can have a web browser on one, and my note files on the other. Honest truth, once I got multiple screens, I find it hard working off one screen. I have to switch programs way too often.

      Finally, the printer. My suggestion on a printer can be summed up in one word: laser. Laser printers are true workhouse that don't cost an arm and leg for ink, but can cost a little more at initial setup. However, over time, they can save you so much money on ink. You can find laser printers on sale for under $75 these days, but a decent home one runs around $150.

When buying a laser, the biggest mistake people make is they look at the overall cost of the ink, and think they are too expensive. Yes, the toner might be $100 dollars, but it can print out 5,000+ pages before you need to replace it. Inkjet cartridges can run $30, and you're lucky to get 300 pages out of it. Also, laser toner doesn't dry it over time like inkjets. This is why I always use lasers for editing.

      Far as features, you will see models such as HL-5470DW or ML2860DW. The letters at the end mean what features they have. All manufactures stick to the same codes overall:

D - Built in duplexing. This is the main feature I look for when buying.

N - Ethernet port for sharing it over the network

W - Wireless networking

T - Extra paper tray

      Far as software, IF you buy one program, Microsoft Word. Microsoft Word is the default word processor in the industry, and any submission will ask for a Word file. There are a ton of decent free Word processors, but I always finalize my files in Word before I even think of submitting them. I've had issues in the past of where one word processor made the file off in Microsoft Word. That's why I stick to Word to finalize files.

      My main typing program honestly is Libre Office. I do all my rough drafts in Libre. Libre Office is almost the same as Open Office, but when Oracle bought Open Office, the main guys formed Libre Office. Since Libre came out, I haven't used Open Office, but again, it's now personal preference between the two.

The main reason I stick to Libre are two main reasons: it has the old school look of Office 2000 that you can customize the layout and appearance.  I have mine setup for blue background, white text, and removed all the toolbars save like 4 icons. The other thing I always loved about Open / Libre is you can save directly to PDF. I know the newer versions of Office support this since 2010,but Open / Libre has been doing this since 2005.

      My final thought about writing technology is on the PC itself. The main thing when buying a new PC comes down to this: Can it run Word? After that, the brand or operating system doesn't matter. Far as hardware, my main suggestion is 8GB of RAM regardless if it's either OSX or Windows. After that, CPU doesn't matter as much. I can't tell a huge difference between my 6 year old laptop and my brand new desktop when it comes to writing.