*05/07/2026
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I am soooooo sorry! I hadn't looked ahead enough to realize that this journal entry was actually composed of TWO pages! I will throw the other page in now!
Again, I am sooooooooo sorry!
Please enjoy!
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Hey, Folks!
I hope that this finds you all just as well as it can!
Me?
Eh...
I've been better, but I have definitely been worse!
My grandmother's funeral was beautiful.
It was what she deserved, I am sure.
It was... interesting to be around my father's side of the family for an extended period of time, you know?
I learned... a lot.
A loooooooooooooot.
I'll share a few of the less personal fun facts, lmao.
- Two of my six siblings on my father's side are, in fact, NOT my blood siblings at all. That was quite the fact to learn, and it was very jarring for me. My older brother and I were essentially replaced.
- My father was not the cool, elusive guy that I grew up thinking he was, you know? He was more akin to a coward in how he ran from the responsibility of being a father. I learned that he didn't have his father in his life either, so mayhap that was why he didn't make a better effort with my brother and me.
Hmm.
No excuses, but I can understand a bit more why he wasn't around...
On the other hand, fuck that and fuck him.
He was a truck driver.
A mechanic.
A "rolling stone."
He was used by beautiful women who knew that he was really good at generating money.
That last part sounds kinda familiar, you know?
Hmm...
Back to him.
He had the right of mind to squirt his load into several other women besides my mother, and remain around to raise their children; he could have done the same with my brother and me.
If you are of a solid mind enough to make a child, be a decent human and raise that child, or at least stick around via calls and video if you can't be there in person.
DO SOMETHING.
Make a fucking effort.
No child deserves to be left to suffer the imbalance of a single-parent home.
I feel as if my uncles are all Kings in some shape or manner, and my father was just a part of that royal family line.
What then would that make me but little more than a Hedge Knight?
- My father's father worked for Motown Records back in the day! That may explain why he was never around for my father.
It may also explain my father's draw to music and writing, and thus mine as well, via his genetics. I suppose he did gift me something worth having outside of life itself, lol.
Hmm, again.
- One of my uncles pulled me aside and asked me about my books and writing.
That hit home for me. No one has ever asked me about my books with any genuine interest, you know? It meant a lot to me, and he seems interested in working with me in the near future.
- I used to think that my older brother managed to get in and fit in on my dad's side of the family, but even he had to force his way in. He ran away at 14 and stayed with my father up till just over 16 before he was taken in by my grandmother.
Hmm, again, and again, and again.
Let's go see what was going on 13 years ago, yeah?
I didn't know THIS much about my family back then, and mayhap that was for the better, lmao.
See you all soon, Folks.
Enjoy.
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October 3rd, 2013.
Journal #100.
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So I write it,
And she reads it,
And she likes it,
And I need it.
And people like all
My poems about her,
Not knowing that
That's ME shit.
Because these poems are
Just like chapters,
And the nights spent
Full of laughter
Are the only
Things I'm after.
*Update
Because our time spent
Is time earned.
From years of tears
And bridges burned.
So many eyes.
Your turn.
Your turn.
So many life
Lessons I've learned.
Oh, my...
We can really talk about anything.
I like that.
Me: "I can read your mind at times."
She: "That's not fair."
Me: "YOU READ MY JOURNALS!"
Lol, yeah.
*Update 05/07/2026.
Hmm.
- Mayhap that poem was a bit more well-rounded than I had thought, lol.
"Time spent is time earned."
I like that.
It still rings true for me, you know?
We could talk about almost anything.
I didn't know that she was just syphoning information out of me so that she could learn how best to use me to her advantage.
- I did at one time feel as if I could read her mind... Looking back, I can see that it was not that I knew her, but more so that she was rather predictable in her simplicity.
Whenever she wasn't manic, she was a very mild-mannered, hippie-like woman.
She was reserved and nonchalant.
It was that warm yet dismissive air that would ultimately make me fall in love with her.
She came off as unnecessarily cool, you know?
She was rough around the edges with her 80% done makeup.
Her socks never matched.
Her style was like that chick from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, you know?
The one who he was fighting for.
I felt like Peter Parker around her, and she was -in my eyes- like Mary Jane.
I felt like a nerd with a prom queen, and she relished that power dynamic, abusing it until the point when I finally left her and walked away.
She was reading my journal that whole time...
Sheesh...
-----
Hmm.
This poem was bland and uninspired, lol.
Seriously.
I obviously didn't have the most interesting day on that date, you know?
Had my reader base known that she was my muse all that time ago, I am sure that some would have said something to yank me out of that delusion, lol.
Or mayhap not?
I have come to learn that most people in your life will choose not to step in or say anything because they feel as if it's "not their place to say anything."
I hate that terminology.
What else are friends for???
People can be quite weird.
I hope, as always, that this post has found you well, and that it leaves you in the same state, if not better!
I love and appreciate you all for hanging around with me for so long, yeah?
It's been nearly a year, at least!
So, we are damned-near FAMILY!
LMAO!
I will leave you all at that and be on my way.
I am sure that I will see you all back here soon enough.
Keep your head up, and keep pushing forward.
Life gets hard, but we only get stronger to battle that.
Let your strength both define and guide you.
See you all soon, yeah?
Safe travels, Folks.
And as always:
Stay safe.
Stay healthy.
Stay vigilant.
-Bluu.
*Update.
Hmm.
- Mayhap that poem was a bit more well-rounded than I had thought, lol.Time spent is time earned.
I like that.
It still rings true for me, you know?
We could talk about almost anything.
I didn't know that she was just syphoning information out of me so that she could learn how best to use me to her advantage.
- I did at one time feel as if I could read her mind... Looking back, I can see that it was not that I knew her, but more so that she was rather predictable in her simplicity.
Whenever she wasn't manic, she was a very mild-mannered, hippie-like woman.
She was reserved and nonchalant.
It was that warm yet dismissive air that would ultimately make me fall in love with her.
She came off as unnecessarily cool, you know?
She was rough around the edges with her 80% done makeup.
Her socks never matched.
Her style was like that chick from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, you know?
The one who he was fighting for.
I felt like Peter Parker around her, and she was -in my eyes- like Mary Jane.
I felt like a nerd with a prom queen, and she relished that power dynamic, abusing it until the point when I finally left her and walked away.
She was reading my journal that whole time...
Sheesh... She was more like a female Green