Would That I Might

My mother's surgery seems to have gone well, but I am quite wiped from the day.  A lot of it is just emotional exhaustion from dealing with a bunch of things, some of it just family drama that always pops off.  I am glad that she seems to be doing well and in far less pain than we had expected, all of which is obviously great, and that is the most important thing today, really, so I will just call it exhausting and hope a night's sleep offers some relief.

Is it gone? I did not find it there, and I was quite careful, thorough, even. I do not know why it would be moved or taken. I can't imagine there would be any reason, but things do not happen without reasons, or causes, anyhow.

My mom is having some surgery tomorrow.  It is a fairly routine procedure, and the whole thing is being done outpatient, so it shouldn't be too big of a deal, I don't think.  Even so, I can't help but be a bit concerned, of course.  If things go as they should, I think it will actually be very positive, but it is still a bit stressful at the moment.  Hopefully, by tomorrow evening she will be at home, resting comfortably.

It was forgotten just left behind, waiting, maybe, but for what and when? It was ready, was prepared, but had not been needed, had been abandoned, at the time. Later, though, it was there, later.  No one had remembered, but that was not a bad thing, made it into a discovery, almost  a miracle we gave ourselves.

I didn't have a chance to get a lot of work done reviewing the galleys today.  I had a number of appointments that kept me busy for the most part.  Tomorrow, I think, is a bit less busy, so I should be in good shape for getting to work once more.

It will all need to be finished I won't forget  or walk off without that. If I were  going to  do anything else I would not have begun.

I have a bit of a busy day tomorrow, but I am still hoping I can find a little time to work on the galleys a bit more.  It is important that I get them back quickly, as that is key to getting the book published in the projected time-frame.  It shouldn't really take all that long, I don't think, I just need to give myself the time to do it.

I will say it, one day I think so, anyhow, or plan to, at least, but it is important to do it well, isn't it?  I am afraid to speak wrong, to say it in words that mean something less or different or that do not help, that do nothing. It matters to me. I should say it for that reason alone, I guess, but it makes it too important to just rush and, maybe, get it all wrong.

I've started reviewing the galleys.  It's an exciting thing, if I am honest, and I am trying to feel that, especially since line editing and proof reading are not always the most fun things to do.

I have more to do and more to find and it may not be possible but I am not willing to not find it, am not allowing it to be impossible. That is what I have determined, have decided. It must go that way, really, it must. It is what I have decided it must be.

I received the galleys for Blaze without Burning, which is very exciting, of course.  Next step is to read through and make certain that everything is the way it should be.  I already know that there are one or two little things to check, and I am certain I will find more.  It is just a natural part of the process.

I have no reason, but I am waiting I am hesitant.  I am not certain and so I am slowing myself into nothing much, nothing more than having it as a problem to consider.

 I am wrapping up my work on the early side tonight, which feels good.  I've been trying to push myself to work earlier, without much success a lot of the time.  I'm just too easily distracted, I think, but I do usually wind up getting it done, in the end, which is the most important thing, I suppose.  In any event, I will count tonight as a victory in my ongoing efforts to overcome procrastination.

I still wonder There is somewhere else, maybe, or even just in my mind, where it was different and I  did not hesitate, or whatever it was, my mistake and I  cannot say what happened, but I wonder, even now, when I think back to it, which I do, at least some times.

Another review came out for Blaze without Burning this week, and I can't help but feel really moved that people seem to be responding to the book, and seem to really get it.  It is a bit awkward, if I am honest, to admit how much I appreciate the positive feedback and reviews, but after spending many years working to get to this point, it really does mean a lot to me.

There is not an answer I am wondering if it will come, or if it will be a problem, if I will find I am not due an answer, or the answer I am due is the one that is not anything like an answer, even if  it pretends to be one.

I keep talking about how I want to get back to writing more fiction, but I don't do it, and I wonder what is making me so hesitant.  Really, I know it is just fear, in specific a fear that I can't really do it, or not well, anyhow, and that is silly because it is not even important.  What I mean is, no one can write anything well until they are writing it, and it probably won't be good at first.  It is a matter of taking the time to do it badly until you can figure out how to make it better, and I need to just give myself that permission, and maybe force myself into action as well.

There is more done though not all of it, but enough to say it is enough that is done, and that is good, is enough, anyhow, by definition or design. More will be done, but at least I can rest for tonight. That is what matters to me at the current moment.

In the modern era, we are all warned about potential scams, but I had a pretty unsettling experience today that I think it is worth relating.  I received a phone call from an unlisted number claiming to be with the Sheriff's Department, and asking me why I had not obeyed my jury duty summons.  I told them I hadn't received it, that this was the first I had heard about my being called to serve.  I was told that I would need to come in to the office to sign something, and that was when things started to get weird.  They told me that they needed me to drive straight to their office, that I couldn't hang up the phone and that I wasn't allowed to speak with anyone else.  At the time, I was kind of freaking out, but fortunately I had Melissa with me, who called the local police non-emergency line to check and verified it was a scam.  Thinking about it now, it seems obvious, but it is easy for me to get flustered or overwhelmed, and they were very good at keeping ...

Different day and it matters, though no one will hear that or care, not any longer. It is small and bigger things are ignored, or not ignored but allowed, encouraged, declared important, necessary. Still, nothing came of it, this time, in my life, at least. It is bigger than any of that, isn't it?

I missed my writing on Friday night.  I didn't discuss it last night, instead just focusing on celebrating Easter with Melissa, which was the easier thing to write about, and considering how late it was at the time, I just wanted to get through with my work.  I feel like I am fighting a lot harder to get myself to stay focused and keep on with my work, at least some of the time.  It is probably just stress, but I know I need to keep myself from falling too far off track.  Really, in the big scheme, I know that the few days of writing I have missed over the past several months don't amount to a lot, but it has happened more frequently of late than in the past.  The concerns are not unfounded, but I feel a bit reassured by the fact that my worry is raised by such relatively minor matters.

It went well I planned it and did what was needed to follow the plan, and that worked which surprises me, really. It shouldn't, I don't think, but plans are not always enough, or is it more that I have never followed them with much care?

Melissa and I went to the midnight vigil at the Greek church to celebrate Easter.  If I am honest, it is not entirely for me, and I don't always feel that comfortable during the service, but that isn't to suggest that I don't want to be there.  I know it is important to Melissa, and it is a beautiful service, with the entire church lit only by candlelight for a large portion of it, and the reception afterwards is always lovely, especially getting to meet other people involved with the church.  In the end, I am quite glad that we went, though it did mean that I wasn't even able to start my writing tonight until quite late.

It is not okay and I  will say nothing and be unhappy and pretend to keep it inside, but I know it won't stay there. I will be misreable and you will know and it won't help. And you will act as if I am  the unreasonable one, and I think that is unfair, but of course I do, and of course you think the opposite. It is just a bad situation, a bad moment that should pass, but right now I am stuck inside it.

I am going to keep this quite short tonight because I am just feeling exhausted.  I had to be up extra early today for the gym, and I didn't sleep all that well to start with.  The a/c is working again, now, so it shouldn't be as hot, which might help me to get a bit more rest tonight.

It went too far I can't say anything or change what will be done or why and I  have no choices, I am told and listen and that is my role, is what I am to do, here, but I notice and think. It is not good. The things he has said. Have you listened? It is not anything to be trusted.

I am glad to find myself finishing my work on the early side tonight, once again.  I'm feeling tired already and I have to be up quite early tomorrow.  On top of that, I don't expect that I will sleep all that great, as our A/C isn't working.  Someone is due to come tomorrow to fix it, but I expect that it will be a bit on the hot side tonight.

 Interconnection It is linked, deep connection that can't be denied or ignored, though you will not notice it, do not care or think it is true. It is there. I know that, I have done what is needed to find out and know. It is not a help, though: you will not listen. You are certain of what you wish to be true.

It is twenty five years to the day since my grandfather died, which feels significant.  The world has gone a quarter century since he left it.  It makes the strangeness of our current time seem even more apparent.  I feel like I am very much like my grandfather in a lot of ways.  I can't really explain or qualify that beyond just the recognition that we shared a similar disposition and a certain intellectual curiosity.  I can't help but wonder what he would be saying right now, what he would do in this particular moment of history.  Alas, all I can do is speculate and wonder what he would say and if it would change anything in terms of what I would be doing right at this moment.

I have not and I do not know that I want to, but I know that I must and will, just not quite yet, not right now but soon, because I know it must be soon that is necessary and I will do it: I will. Or I think so. I promise that I will. That should be  enough. I know I want it to be.

I did not mean for the night to get so late, but I was rather slow in my writing tonight.  I've got to be up early tomorrow and I had hoped I would finish up a bit earlier, but it is what it is and as I have said before, I am glad that my commitment to writing usually wins.  I did slip up a bit last night, though it was not a choice.  I did most of my writing, but when I got to the point where I normally work on this blog, I got distracted and never got back to work.  I'm not really certain how I feel about that, overall, as much of my motivation to start this blog and keep it going was as a way to remain accountable with my other writing.  I still do intend to keep working on this blog, and think it is still a valuable thing for me in terms of remaining on task, but I can't be too disappointed about not having worked on it last night, considering I did the rest of my intended work.

That all happened or I am told it is what happened, that he did not wait, that she was not there, that the fish rotted in the hall and no one noticed for a week, I think, or maybe it was less but it smelled that bad. It was  never over, that smell, it might be there now, like a ghost or the scar across  that stranger's cheek.

Tonight was the first night of Passover, so Melissa and I went to my cousins for the Seder.  We have been going there for many years, and I appreciate that they have included us in there tradition.  This year was kind of hectic for me.  I always bring some sides and things, generally whatever my cousin asks me for, but I didn't have a lot of time to get started with any of it, meaning that I spent most of my morning scrambling to get things done.  I did finish up what I needed to, and was able to make it work, but I am definitely feeling the effort, especially after getting through my workout this morning.

It has been that way for all the time it has been at all and it is fine, I think, or it was fine, though it is work, is difficult to do, is nothing simple. I made it complicated and unclear, and now I wonder why I did that, or not quite why, (I have reasons, it was not an accident) but maybe why I let it be so  difficult, and now new ideas can begin to grow and maybe they are better, too.

I let the evening get away from me again.  I had hoped to finish my work earlier, but oh well, the best intentions and all of that.  It happens often, I guess, though I should remember that I've done somewhat better recently.  In the end, it is not that big of a problem, though I do have to be up to go to the gym in the morning.  It will be fine, though; due to years of living with sleep apnea I am quite good at operating without much sleep.

What is the point if it is not going to go far off and away to do things in the world? Why would it be any good if it  sat there. Making it is not  enough, or in the end, what it is even about.

I have been writing more poetry over the past week or so.  It started when I skipped writing poetry so I could work on that non-fiction piece about my difficulties with handwriting.  Initially I had just been intending to kind of make up for not writing poetry the night before, but I have just kept going.  It feels strange to discuss poetry in these, terms, to talk about how many poems I write each night, though I can't say quite why I feel that way about it.  I mean, this is just my process, and I know it works for me, so why should I feel strange acknowledging it?

It is done I can tell even from here that it is over and you are through with it all, but I wonder what that means and what you would want it to mean, if it were anything close to  an opportunity or just a silence, and if it is anything you want or should it be filled? Do you want this time for your own silence or is it possible you are open to other opportunities?

The presale for Blaze without Burning is over, though the book is still available for pre-order.  The main difference is that it is now being offered at the cover price, which is slightly higher.  I am hoping that sales will continue as we get closer to the actual publication date, but I know that a lot is going to depend on what I can do to get the book in front of people once it is actually out.

It is quiet Right now it is. It wasn't just before this, a minute or two ago, I heard you off in the bedroom laughing at something, the television, I think, but now it is quiet. I wonder if you are asleep or just no longer amused.

I received word tonight from my Finishing Line Press that they consider Blaze without Burning to be one of their best-selling titles at the moment.  Obviously, that is relative, and not any kind of publishing standard, but it does still mean a lot to me, and suggests that the work I've been doing is paying off at least somewhat.  I know there is still a long way to go, but it is nice to get some signs that things are going in the right direction already.

You have heard it and I can do nothing but speak about it, cannot make it better today or now, cannot change or prove it has changed, will change, is changing, is different already. I want to, but it is not a problem in this moment, is not a problem that can be solved right now. I must be different. I want to be, but I can't do that right now, cannot show you a change right now, even if I said  "I have done it," even if it were true. I don't have a better answer, I only know anything I say means nothing tonight.

It has been a long and frustrating day, and I am kind of shocked to find it is quite as early as it is because it feels much later to me.  In part this is due to the fact that I slept quite poorly last night, partly, I suspect, because of my overlong nap in the afternoon, but that too was a result of the general poor sleep I've had lately, so it may just be a wash.  In any event, I am quite tired and glad to find that I am finishing up at a quite reasonable hour.

 Almost A distraction came along but I missed it and am here instead. I should be celebrating, maybe, or not,  in truth, in practical truth.  What good is  celebrating? It would not help me in being less distracted.

I am feeling very tired tonight.  I did take a long nap this afternoon, but it apparently did not help all that much.  I'm certain that it is largely a matter of my needing to replace my CPAP.  The one I have is getting older and I think it may be in need of repair, if not replacement.  In any case, I am glad to be getting done with my work relatively early.  Even if my sleep is not the best, I am probably going to be better off getting as much of it as I can.

It can't go back It is not an option, is not  what can be even if it is changed, if things are done to try making it the way it used to be, that will not work. That is not reality.

I went and saw the premiere of a new play at FAU's Theatre Lab, The Impossible Task of Today by Jeff Bower.  It was one of the best productions I have seen there, with incredible performances.  The play itself was very good, and while the subject is serious, their is enough humor to keep it from sinking into complete darkness.  It's a very new piece, with tonight being the world premiere, so I am sure it will still evolve a bit, and I don't think anyone would be upset at my acknowledging that there is clearly room for it to develop a bit more, but even in its current form, it was quite definitely worth seeing.  If you are in the Boca area, I am sure that they still have tickets for some of the performances.  It is currently only scheduled to be there until the 15th, so if you are in the area and interested, you probably don't want to wait on it.

I am working back to it not jumping all the way but building back up. I have done it before. I know that, it takes away so much of the doubt.  Now it is only getting myself back to it. I can take time and build to that. It is fine, I think. I really do think so.

Things are terrifying at the moment.  The economic policies of our current government are not reasonable, and the ultimate outcome of following this path is clearly an international economic collapse that will probably do a great deal to undermine the future of the United States as global power.  The only hope we have is that the administration is forced to reverse course, and that seems utterly improbable at the moment.  I hope that I am wrong and something changes, but it seems pretty bleak right now.  My only response to this has been to start writing more poems than I had been, which is probably as useless as anything else I could do, but at least it feels a bit productive, maybe.

I almost forgot Almost.  I didn't forget, in  the end.  I  remembered in time and so it is fine, nothing went wrong, nothing is missing. It was too easy, though, for me to slip, to forget. I thought I was better at this, was more together, more in control of my- self, was aware. Maybe I am and that is why I did remember, before it was actually too late.

I took yesterday off from writing poetry and my blog to work on a personal essay that I had been attempting to write, in some sense, for years. The final shape of it is occasioned around the publication of Blaze without Burning , but the underlying content is about my difficulties with handwriting and the fears I have around that.  I've often felt judged by others based on the poor quality of my penmanship, and so the prospect of signing and inscribing books is a bit daunting, and I felt motivated to explore those feelings on the page.  I don't often write personal essays, to be honest, and I am not certain that I have the knack, as it were, but this is something I've tried to write about before and it felt very much like now was the right moment to attempt tackling it again.

Things have changed again and I wonder what it means for my own plans. It is bad, I know, and the world will not be well, and I do worry about all of that, do care about it. Still, I must consider my own situation, right? It is natural, even if the danger approaches others first. I do not know if there is another way to be  in such a world, though I must hope I can keep a balance.

I am excited to share that I have confirmation for an event this Summer at Pete's Candy Store in Brooklyn.  It is going to be on the evening of July 13th, though I am not certain of the exact time at the moment.  There are still a lot of details that are being worked out, if I am honest, but I am really eager.  Pete's is a venue that has been around for at least a quarter century and I recall attending events there in the past, and I feel quite excited that they wanted to partner with me for this.  I'll share more as things develop and I have some real details.  It is still a ways off, but I am really excited with how things seem to be shaping up.

I understand the choice and it is not a bad choice and I might agree with it if I did not disagree, that is, if I did not, instead have a different thought, but it still not a bad choice and I won't complain or not very much, not any more than I already have.