Things have gotten busier for me at home and at work lately. Having something of an addictive personality has caused me to spend a little more time at JoeUser, reading and replying than is probably healthy for me. I'm therefore going to be taking a little bit of a break from JoeUser, until I can get more balance back in my life. I can't say exactly when I'll be returning, but I expect that I won't be too too long. Thanks for the consideration you have shown me one and all.

I thought I'd do a personal blog for a change. I spend most of my time lost somewhere between gratitude and resentment on the one hand and fear and faith on the other. In other words, I'm probably not much different from anyone else here. Not where it counts. ~~~~~ My mother turned 80 last weekend and insisted on cooking for the entire extended family with only the help of my 83-year-old dad. They've always been the type to give until it hurts, but have always found it hard to accept the ...

He picked up his pen and began to write this story: _____________________________________________________... | | He picked up his pen and began to write this story: | _____________________________________________________... | | | | He picked up his pen and began to write this story: | | _____________________________________________________... | | | | | | He picked up his pen and began to write this story: | | | ______________...

Prose or poem. I don't know which. Some thoughts, I guess. looking ====== fury in the storm fading lightbehind the eyes sleeping babe inchurch stranger in theshadows' piercing gaze begetter andbirther both milk that satesthe hungry pit silence in thestillness comfort in thecrowd pattern in theweave elegance in thewhole absence in theloneliness treasure in the ground frustration in theglimpse aftertaste ofpromise you turn thecorner where are you now .............

That part which I thought broken is the only part that's whole. It helped me reach beyond myself into my very soul. Not demon at the gate, I see trying to get in But a soldier gone into the breach against oblivion My life you risked, I hated you you brother Caine in me Your motto: to try everything to set our spirits free When I had almost lost it all you showed yourself to be a reflection of His love His creativity Then helped me take another risk, a death defying ...

Remy saw the back of the man’s head. He saw him put his cell phone away, take the blowgun out and get ready to use it. Remy fired and the man dropped to the ground. Firing-first-and-asking-questions-later. That had always been Remy’s bad habit. Was it because he was bipolar? Remy thought about what had brought him here. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Remy Smith figured he had to be the loneliest person on e...

His name wasn't very important. Avery, if you will. Avery rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked out at the fuchsia sky as he stretched the aches out of his neck and shoulders. What would aliens think, he wondered. What would they think if they visited the planet Mons. In a world full of superheroes, Avery was the only ordinary man. Most people on Mons had a few superpowers and one fatal flaw each. Avery was different. Avery was zero for two. His abilities and flaws weren’t eve...

Regular kids eat regular meals. Being a doctor, my kids eat meals peppered and spiced pungently and profusely. The bitterness, the sweetness. They're old enough to hear it all, now. But once in a while I hear, "Not at dinner dad." "Can't it wait." "Pulleeasse." Dinner is for sharing and mom's no help. She's a nurse. Oblivious, we don't even know we're doing it. OK, so maybe they didn't need to know about that lady I'd see every couple of years. She'd complain of navel discomfort. I'd take a...

The plane burns a smoggy path onto the runway, and Paul shakes the hands of the flight crew. They have a strange look to them as if they know what is about to happen. His arms occupied, down an endless corridor, a casual bump that seems as innocent as a hiccup requires some adjustment to his balance. An edgy crawl through security as he feels a weary daze drift over him. A pretty girl averts his gaze and behind, a presence like a wisp of hair out of place. He continues, walking more q...

If she from grace did fall it was not dark desire but fatal flaw that brought her to our midst. Oblivion and Passion Lost are we. Within this putrid place for all to see our shaded husks, forgotten schemes, exploited and abandoned teens and tots. Now, claustrophobic dreams Has she of getting, using misery getting, using endlessly, each time sweet vein and blush of blood envelopes like a flood of death until last breath.

"I dare not try to make the angels cry," thought he, "because I'm scared they might get mad at me. Instead I hope that soon I might be safe, away from fear and shame and also hate ...and not to carry this alone but share the load." Someday inside these words if truth be told

Meter this, but matter that Bother this, then bother that Freaking, tweaking, birthing, shrieking Which beguiling muse begat Questioning, unquestioning Wrestling, then nestling This cursed gift that heaven sent Hell envies every sweet torment Which sin is it I must repent To rid me of this malcontent That's that. Thou brat. ( ..Broody moody festering, endless impish pestering… ) ...

If you are the type to faint when you have a flu shot or when blood is taken, I thought the following study was important enough to reprint. It might help you the next time around. It turns out that there is some selective advantage to fainting. Some of our ancestors who fainted at the sight of blood or upon feeling pain on the battlefield thereby survived and went on to have children, thereby also passing on this genetic trait. For example, I fare quite well, looking at the blood of other...

A new-fallen snow. The painful silence of an anechoic chamber it sponges up the sounds of the city, save one. The haunting whistle of the two o'clock train. Sounding off more often now. Last week that train killed a man. It beat the Afghani refugee in a race. Delivering pizza up the hill. A judgement. I distanced myself from that pain. But. That was his second job. And, his wife, seven children will never forget. While the city below my escarpment view seems to take it all in stride. A th...