in losing a friend

to lose a friend
to disease
or cancer
is pain without measure

to lose a friend
to a moment of angry
or thoughtless speech
is beyond comprehension

but to lose a friend
to their own hand
cannot be expressed
in words

for in these times
the heart only knows
how to weep

to live vicariously or not live vicariously – that is the question

and I don’t have an answer. At least not for anyone but me…

Ok, I’ll admit it. I live vicariously through the characters in my novels. They have the life I don’t. They have the freedom to live it because nobody is truly “at risk” for trusting or believing or loving. They’re just characters in a story, after all.

And yes, I do get attached to them. I weep when one dies. I hurt when my protag hurts. My stories wouldn’t be worth much if I didn’t. At least not worth much to me. And since they’re not worth **** to anyone else, their worth to me is what matters. So if I live vicariously through them, it’s only because that way I know how to write them – I can see what they see.

I speak figuratively, of course. If I admit to this close of a connection with imaginary people, I’ll end up over medicated in some ward while interns mess with what little sanity I might still possess. I mean that too. Way too many people working in “recovery facilities” who are there to abuse those who can’t defend themselves and who are never believed if they try to report someone.

But that has nothing with my connecting with the characters in my stories. It does have a LOT to do with who I admit that to, and why you’ll never hear me telling my doctor that I am worried about character ‘X’. He’d sign me over in a heartbeat.

I post this because earlier today I wept (privately) when the lead character in my current working novel had a major heart hurt. He wept – I wept. Eh – it makes good reading [that’s my story and I’m sticking to it]

Is this post tongue-in-cheek? Partially, I suppose. It’s mostly serious, but I also am an expert with joking about those things that bother me the most. The only thing I don’t joke about is being raped as a kid. Or any other form of child abuse for that matter … or sexual abuse … but that’s more because the number of people that could be hurt by insensitive joking about something that is so prevalent and causes so much lasting harm.

Of course, that begs the question “what part is serious?” I post because a subject matters to me. I write about “living vicariously” through my fictional characters because to some extent, that connection bothers me. Surely “sane” writers don’t get this involved in their character’s lives. Or maybe “sane” ones do, but “successful” ones don’t. And if THAT is the case, I have no worry cuz I’ll never be a successful novelist. LOL – I’m lucky to get 2 people to actually read [and enjoy] one of my stories.

All this meandering and rambling about just to say that I live vicariously through the lives of my characters. But again, it makes sense when you consider:
1) I really have no life outside my stories
2) My characters get to do and get to be everything I can’t

Eh … maybe it’s not so bad. [maybe it is……]

It’s All So S.A.D.

If this is you, if you find yourself anywhere in this post, take special note of the closing statement. This is not permanent. It just feels that way.

Art by Rob Goldstein

Butterly Memory

I have always felt more anxious during the months of November and December.

As I’ve gotten older the seasonal anxiety and loss of concentration is worse.

This past week, especially after ‘falling back” one hour, is especially bad.

I sit down and look up and hours have slipped away.

I interpret the smallest remark as dismissive, or as evidence of my unworthiness.

It feels as if I have no real future and no real past.

This is different from dissociative episodes.

It feels as if I’m drugged, as if my mind is shutting down.

According to MedlinePlus Seasonal Affective Disorder includes the following symptoms:

  • Sad, anxious or “empty” feelings
  • Feelings of hopelessness and/or pessimism
  • Feelings of guilt, worthlessness or helplessness
  • Irritability, restlessness
  • Loss of interest or pleasure in activities you used to enjoy
  • Fatigue and decreased energy
  • Difficulty concentrating, remembering details and making decisions
  • Difficulty sleeping or…

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how much does it matter

Ok, so who cares if i blog or not. i mean, REALLY cares? If i don’t blog for a day or two, who sits back and wonders:

‘Gee, where has ol’ Marcus been? Haven’t seen a post from him in a while now.’

It’s a rhetorical question because i know the answer. i just don’t like knowing the answer. If i should happen to not post (which actually occurs at least one day every weekend), my readership goes down to 1 or 2, and if i don’t post the next day, visits to my blog are zero. Again, not surprising. Just a little disheartening sometimes. But eh – such is blogging. Or life. Or whatever else it is as such.

Tried a few of those ‘Promote your Site.’ ‘Comment here.’ ‘Let us refer to your blog’ places. My readership went down. i joke not. Down.

None of this should bother me, i know. i should be oblivious and just keep posting merrily along. If people find me, great. If they read and comment, even better. And should I reach another survivor – awesome. But if none of that happens, don’t sweat it, just keep blogging.

Not so easily done. At least not with depression pushing all my buttons, which it does. Some days more than others. Today a LOT more than others. But all that is part of the fun little game i like to call ‘life’. [note – just because i like to call it life does not mean i like life …]

i’m having to be real careful at work today. i have a sarcastic old man in me itching to go off on someone who asks a stupid question. And i work in I.T. — stupid questions abound here.


i really wish i could just go home and crawl under the bed. except it’s one of those adjusting beds – there’s no room under it unless you’re a gerbil. So even if i went home, i couldn’t do what i need most to do. [ok, want most to do].

…doesn’t help to have the original “Mission Impossible” theme stuck in my head. — that would be from the TV series, not the first rip-off movie …

day of destruction

i hate
i’ve ever done

every word
blah, blah, blah

i would love it
for once
i could do something
that i actually liked
and wanted
to keep

so today
i struggle
with joking
about nothing

don’t i care

i care
that my heart
is imploding
in grief

find me
a corner
i need
a place
to curl up
and die

or at least
from life
all its

getting it together

I’m here again – and reblogging an older post is SO MUCH EASIER than coming up with a new one…

survivor road

So when does a person finally “get it together’?  When can they look at themselves, either figuratively or literally, and say “this is me and I’m ok” ??  Because I should be there by now.  At least I think I should.  If I can believe movies – I’m wayyyyyy past the point of knowing who I am.  I’m sitting here, stewing over this, and making myself ill.  Actually making myself ill.  This is stupid, crazy, insane, inane, inept, inconceivable …

I know!  I’ll just accept the fact that I can’t accept who I am and then be ok with it.  That way I should, in some round-about way, get it together.  Oh yeah.  That’s a plan.

I can joke about it.  I can laugh and kid around and do everything except be serious because when I’m serious I feel like I do right at this moment and it’s not…

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If You Haven’t Visited These 2 Pages, Then You Are Missing an Incredible Opportunity!!

Ok folks. Roll up your sleeves and start using offered resources to get more readers. If you don’t … we won’t even go there.

Dream Big, Dream Often

image credit: image credit:

image image

About a week or so ago two blogs joined forces on a mission to help other bloggers gain more exposure: Michael’s Origins and Most Blogging.  The idea as I understand it is to share other’s articles on Reddit and Stumbleupon as a way of gaining more views and followers.

I have no experience with either platform but quickly became a believer this past weekend.  Michael shared my post and I received over 120 views this past weekend.  That might not seem like a ton, but for a lot of my readers that are also bloggers, that could easily surpass daily totals!  For me it represented about 7% of my weekend totals views!!

That is free exposure for my page and a huge endorsement for Michael and Janice!!

If you have any questions, as I did, you can contact either Michael or Janice through…

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The wheels on the bus really do go round and round

I must apologize, I have absolutely NO idea why I gave this post the title it has. I went to blog and that’s what came to my mind, so that’s what’s there. So, on with the show (or on with the actual post)

[The post probably should have been titled something about ‘luck‘ or ‘superstition‘.]

Friday of next week will be the 13th. Friday the 13th. I am not the superstitious type, I do not believe in luck. Actually, keeping with my faith, I don’t believe in coincidence either. [that could be its own post – if we posted faith items]

Friday the 13th. My sister was born on Friday the 13th. Ok, she was born on the 13th and I am sure from her … activities with me, I just claim it was a Friday. She was born first, so how could I know unless I got it from my parents. And that isn’t something we talked about. Them and me, I mean. Whether or not it was discussed with my siblings I have no idea. I also have no idea what day of the week I was born on … not that it matters.

I don’t have a rabbit’s foot, I don’t avoid cracks in the sidewalk, I am fine around black cats, I will walk under a ladder (if no one is on it), and the list goes on. [There’s a song … ‘And the list goes on…. The list goes on… Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain…] When I was little and in the middle of abuseville, I believed in luck. Everyone had luck but me. Or we could just quote my father and say my life is just “luck of the draw”.

I actually do the “knock on wood” thing. But it’s more a social convention or habit. I wish something so simple could change some future event to go my way – but knocking on wood doesn’t. And, as also a social convention in some circles, I knock on my head when I say “knock on wood”. So would most of the people I work with. [a really strange bunch, but their not abusive so they must be ok]

I’ve done the Ouija board and Tarot cards. Part way into the Ouija board thing I quit. Kinda hate to admit it, but I chickened out. My nerves were getting more and more edgy – something I never want to experience again. The Tarot cards reading was a riot. My friend had me shuffle the cards then hand them back to her. She flipped over the first card – Death – upside down. She picked it back up and set the deck aside, refused to go any further. Wouldn’t tell me why – she just wouldn’t. [for what it’s worth, I silently prayed blessings over the cards as I shuffled them…] Ran into her a few days later – she said she had the throw the cards out; they never worked right after I had them. I know what I believe happened, but I will leave your interpretation of it totally in your hands.

So I’m sitting here wondering why I decided to post and why I chose this stuff to use as my post. I have no answers for you [not too surprising, if you know me] but then I don’t know that the reason is all that much important. I’m doing what I’m doing [another brilliant statement] – it’s title stands and this gets posted.

[in case your wondering, the stuff in square brackets is the abuse-memory part of my brain commenting. stuff in parentheses is just stuff in parentheses.]

New Anonymous video confirms threat to reveal 1,000 members of KKK is real & invites public to join

is it late enough in the year for me to take out my soapbox? oh well, I have anyhoo. I am proud to say I’m with this post 10000%. One of those rare places where the law is almost equal. Hate groups get to spit hate and other groups get to point them out. (wonder how many times this gets reblogged ….)