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 |   All that remains: in afterlife as 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. 20k views |
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Obshchak Some torn to the ground Some burn to the ground Others removed brick by brick Redesign for the times When the lease comes up Or just fold up When you have a bad day and need a reason... Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection... "Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.” - Some guy, I guess. Look it up? I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad. The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone. In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice, might as well hand over your civil liberties. Voices could connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted? Unify on issues or don't but put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. Or, agree to disagree and have a beer. Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head. [MY Chorus] In your house, I long to be Room by room, patiently I'll wait for you there, like a stone I'll wait for you there, alone - Chris Cornell, RIP Some other stuff ▼ My recent poetry:
Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on... Blah, blah, blah ▼ ![Merit Badge in Rare
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I like your work!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Rare.gif) Thank you WakeUpAndLive️~Happiness  for honoring me with your kind words!Read here some old blog entries...  2018 Highlights ▼ More... 2018: The Quiet Ones ▼  ~ Brian K Compton ~  |
| I submitted a short story several years ago for a contest on the Reedsy website before a five dollar reading fee was added. I did draw a satisfying response from a reader and nothing more. I haven't submitted since. It's not the cost that could pay for a meal or lack of anything like merit or accolade. It's because I stopped believing in myself and the institution of another's appraisal in a format that could note my writing and/or the worth of my words, good or bad. It's been more than two years and the weekly prompts fill my email inbox, some perused, none deleted. My logic for keeping the five weekly suggested approaches to themed prompts is because I might be inspired to write a story one day, regardless of contest, that might be pretty good, worth more than an aside, light the reality of the literary environment I've lingered in most of my life. I'm as yet blind to it. Whatever catapults me out of bed in the morning is not to seek the love of any aspect of this world. It's not to conjoin with internet villages with whatever notions. It's because I have to keep living. And, not for me. There are people who rely on me, in who's service via loyalty I'm charged. It's not for reciprocation but to feel I'm worthy enough to belong, in a place where I am welcome. Otherwise, the bed gets my ass all day. This could go further, but it was from a momentary glance at incoming email that set a course on petulant thought to see where it might bring me. And, I am here sharing this meandering. Temporarily, feels worthy of blogging, what ever audience, aside. Might be worth thinking about, as I enjoy a second cup of coffee. 8.22.24 Did I stay on topic, or stray? Do I add layers, further context, spill my heart away? I've emptied more than I could, mindless and errant soaked a stack of papers, once stained a cushioned chair, clumsy that way. Fingers stray, text disappears, tears could form if I would care. But, it's just another ordinary morning in an ordinary seat by the window in a world replete, resplendent and ignorant of one who dares join a breath with gas molecules that aimless fill a hollow space. What have I inhaled, these vapors deep in my chest, when it's a Sunday morning with no paper, and in a recliner could rest? Stupid iPad. Stupid, stupid user. Here's a dime. Now, go outside and play? Maybe, a quarter or fifty cents? What worth you? It's not worth but the avenues I've visited to help them cross the street that makes me feel complete. Then, you're cut off.  Nowhere else but my room?I have no clue. Write! You damn idiot, echoes in my sleep. Where are the sheep? Nothing couldn't mean anything, right? Not lost in a helpless plight I know I have to fight but does information have to tell me it's a windmill? |
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![Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
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Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in [Link To Item #2164876] with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!
Rachel *^*Heartv*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Second_Time_Around_Contest-2164963_14.gif)
In the Falkland Islands, internet is very limited and very expensive. The place I'm currently staying only lets me use it in the middle of the night, so when I have to get up at 3 am to check my texts (no cell service to the US here unless I'm on the internet) or WdC, I don't do nearly as much as I used to. 
I currently have 2 very long emails I still need to get to from several days ago. Anyway, I miss everyone, but I also miss sleep, so there's that. 
Have you spoken to the doctor about your vision problems lately? I know there are special glasses for it because I have to wear them to read much ever since the brain injury. It's part of why I now only listen to audiobooks instead of reading regular books. It took 8 years for anyone to diagnose it because I have a brain injury and while one might think it would be obvious to me that I see double, it wasn't. Partly, my brain does a fair job of compensating. But also, partly, you use your brain to realize and understand that the 2 images you constantly see are double vision and something you should mention to your eye doctor. Since my brain was damaged, even basic things like that can escape me. 
I never once thought to mention it, even with annual eye exams in the Army and an exam every 2 years at the VA. Though, in my defense, since it happens in something like 41% of people with a brain injury, it should have been discovered by an eye doctor much sooner. 
I know doing that activity is a CRAP TON of work. But you made a difference in lives, not just his, but for all the people he's reviewed since. 
Well done! 
