personal

To My Followers, February, 2015

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This month is a wonderful one and monumental in so many ways.  This post is a more personal one, it is to keep you from leaving the blog I so love and admire.  I keep this blog up and going for one reason – to celebrate the art of great fiction.  I originally created jcm3blog to share stories with friends/loved ones.  Now, it is what I have to present a story to the world when I simply cannot withhold it.

It may be a while; however, before I cease to quickly write down an idea and leave it; I am helping present a writing contest for Oval.  Proud to do such a thing, we have received many submissions.  Great literature is profound.  It is not always easy to find the time to praise it.  I plan to make time to do such a thing, somehow, anyway.  Thank you for following my blog; I enjoy thinking of writing as a hue of science.  English can be appreciated best by those who have tried to know its entirety.

Most of the preliminary work we have done on Oval and what I do on the web can be seen with the twitter posts below.  If it is quite some time before you see a story I do – for jcm3blog – remember, we will be here for as long as possible.  I love to write.  Creating great fiction is a passionate pursuit of mine.  When I do, I make it known here.  I am still working on a revision of my first book and the journal I kept while finishing it; those items will get more attention in July.  Thank you for your time; remember, if you leave a comment on this blog, it is appreciated, mediated.  Tell us all your thoughts on writing; happy blogging!

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My Most Prized Possession

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My Most Prized Possession

Like the cleanliness of a floor with nothing on it, and as the deep sea’s endless flatness presents to us a peaceful existence when it can, I prefer nothing.  My most prized possession is not having one.  John Lennon mentioned this idea in a song or two; Buddhists consider the notion, too.  Even Christians are against forms of greed, though Satanists enjoy the notion of indulgence.  No one wants to make a mistake… I have goals.  Many people do.  I love to write; being able to is a talent I consider to be somewhat of a possession of mine.

I am new to writing as a craft, compared to what I want to be able to do with it eventually.  I have been able to write well for most of my life; I realize that there are techniques that I still have yet to master.  Anyone can sit and jot some prose without too much difficulty; I am still new enough with writing to be in pursuit of my own style and voice.  I do already have both a voice and a style; you do, too.  Being able to choose your own voice or writing style can be a challenge if you make it hard on yourself.  It will be a worthwhile endeavor, even if we do not find these goals to be easy.  Not for me… natural talent is one thing; I still have some exploration to do in the world of grammar and style.

For the most part, though, I am happy with what I can already do.  My talent is hard for me not to covet; being too proud would certainly have its mindless drawbacks from a secondary perspective.  I love to write.  I plan to.  I like reading others’ writings; I want to do better than most.  I think I can.

So, to be new to an old art is a fun and exciting adventure.  I do not have a lot, worldly possession wise.  I am not overly concerned with the notion.  I will be thrifty or giving when I can – I hope my books sell to millions of readers before  I die.  I have a few projects that I am working on.  Life is not easy for me, for now.  With tentative financial debt and a dedicated quasi-addiction to writing; I do what I can.

Hats off to you though, if you chose a car or house or even a week-willed person.  You can have something and suffer the consequences as a calculated cost.  Praise that idol.  Keep it well.  Let it all go; the choice is indeed yours when you are able… know that I am behind you.  I hope you as the audience enjoy my words.  I, from time to time, put what thought I can into them.  My goals with writing are usually achieved in my opinion.  I have nothing else I want more, and I plan to gain, gain, gain.

I have no possession to covet; my writing is my breath of life.  If you have read this, thank you for your time and more power to you.  Be what you can be.  Choose well, for the future is at hand.

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Thoughts on Bottled Up Emotions

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Thoughts on Bottled Up Emotions

Keeping your emotions in a container is not always a healthy practice.  Many of us know these things; psychology students can tell us why.  Negative stress can go from internal anguish to actual physical discomfort and even harm.  People can die from anxiety attacks, so there are reasons to pay attention to the leaders of consideration – that is my simple take on these topics.

I personally am emotional all day long.  I make the customer happy, try to teach when others can learn, and I constantly pursue wisdom as an avid learner.  People say, “Just let it go.  It should not matter so much to you; you will cheer up sometime.”  It is not always easy to rid ourselves of kept secrets/emotions.  One way I figure it out – no dwelling.  If you have to think about something, fine; do not continue to repeat thoughts that are going to upset you.  Think about something else; there are always new topics, always.

My two most popularly contained emotions are love and anger.  I am usually a dead giveaway with the first.  People know when I like them; I do not touch anyone, really.  Around public people all the time, I try to minimize physical contact; it is the best for now.  I love all people.  As far as anger goes; I let it go.  I just do.  I have every reason, from time to time, to be upset – I let it go.  Many times, in order for my anger to be a very real thing, I have to figure out, ultimately, why I am upset.  It takes a bit of thought.  So, if I do not think of anything, I will no longer be upset.  If I can justify anger, I can justify forgiveness, understanding, or new avenues of consideration.  If you read this, “like” it or comment, and I will visit your blog.  Thank you for you time.

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↓daily post, unsafe containers

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