I’d been sick (still am) and I became so sad because I know there’s no one I could depend on if I was sick or didn’t feel good. My brother tried to help, but the best he could do was tell me to “shake it off” and that I should be strong. He couldn’t see that what I really needed was just for someone to care about me without giving me a lecture.

There’s no nurturing or love in my life. No one to hold me. No one to ask me how my day went. No one to fix me something to eat, or even ask how my day went. “How sad,” I thought to myself. No one should live a life like this. It makes everything so much harder knowing that if something happens to me, no one will be there to help me up.

People say they will help, but so far it hasn’t happened. Despite promises to lighten my load, I still have all of these responsibilities because, even though the obligations aren’t mine, I feel morally bound to see that the people and pets around me are taken care of when they need someone to take care of them. I’m not going to turn my back on my niece or on “my” pets. I know fully well what it’s like to not having someone care about you, so I’m not going to let that happen to others.

The next few weeks I’m going to be almost completely broke and I’m going to have to rely on God to feed me. With all these payments due at one time, there’s not much I can do and I’m not going to ask for a loan, so I guess that means I might have to go hungry.

God help me.

I like to write about the things that happen in my life, but usually, they’re things I’d rather forget. Writing about them only makes it worse because it commits it to paper. People say you should write out all the bad stuff, but when you put it in a blog it defeats the purpose because it just serves to remind you of what made you upset in the first place.

For example, it’s been a week since I’ve written, but mostly because I’ve been so busy at work that when I get home I don’t feel like writing since that’s what I’ve been doing all day.

The Buddhists say that a person should try to make every day worth remembering because at the end of your life (or even in the middle), what you’ll have are pleasant memories you can enjoy again.

All I need now are a few more pleasant memories…

Writing, unlike my photography, has what’s been sustaining me for the past ten years and I do it well enough to warrant reward and praise. I’m not sure which I do better, my writing or my photography, but my heart is in taking pictures since it was my first love.

Still, my writing has enabled me to reach my dreams, so I guess there’s some kind of symbiosis at work here. It’s my writing that enabled me in getting my two lenses and now, my new laptop, which should be coming in sometime next week. I do wish I had some steady photography work, but I’m so glad I don’t do weddings (or quinceañeras) any longer. They’re nothing but a pain and despite the money, I don’t think the time and energy invested were worth it.

I think that’s enough for today – I’ve got a full day tomorrow.

The book has a series of writing prompts in order to help get a person just writing. There’s no grand theme or promises of publication, just a series of story ideas to get a person started, which is what I need the most.

The first prompt is to acknowledge the difficulty of writing. Writing is hard.

What I’m planning to do is to just write every day following at least a prompt a day. I used to enjoy writing, but now it’s a chore and I’d like to change that because I know I’m still a good writer, just as I’m still a good photographer. My photography skills are also lacking. I have everything I need, both for writing.

Well, everything except the passion I used to have when I first started. I know it’s still in me somewhere, but finding it has been difficult. Somewhere along the line, I lost what was important to me. I can now produce on demand, whether it’s writing or taking pictures, but it’s dead. Well, not dead, let’s just say it’s dormant.

I hate that my camera spends most of its time in the closet. It should be at the end of my arm and in my hand – an extension of myself. I really need to get out there some more, but I really have no motivation when it comes to taking pictures of things I’ve taken before. In the past – when writing or taking photos – I would see something in my subject that inspired me. Now, I can’t stand to look at it because it reminds me not of the subject, but of times past when I had previously taken the same photo.

The only answer is to get away from here, but without decent transportation, I don’t see it as an immediate possibility. Still, I need to move forward if I’m ever going to get any better.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Very good collection of poems, featuring the very best of humanity surrounded by the worst environment.

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Harrows Assassins 20g, Phase 5 stems