From poetry to short story writing

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After rediscovering my passion in writing poems, I am now on a journey to write stories... short stories at least.

I am struggling, especially since I have so much writing to do as well real world matters to attend to. But I am determine to test myself to see if I can indeed try to pull this one.

I have managed to inject a few stories in my blogs before, but those were done in leisure time. They may or may not be written, it won't make a difference. I still can post a lot of nonsensical and irrelevant matters on my blog.

But when you have blog like a short stories blog, you really can't post anything in it other than short stories, right? So, when the blog don't get updated... say, for more than a month, you know somebody is not keeping up in his personal challenge.

I am excited, and at the same time pressured. Especially now that I am promoting it in almost all of my blogs. Perhaps, you may have read the other posts too and have grown tired of reading the same thing -- just re-worded.

Just leveraging on the existence of my many blogs.

So far, I only have two entries in it... an introductory story, and another one that aims to be a sci-fi with a twist.

But of course, expect it to be filled with more stories of different genre - romance, suspense, real life, action, mystery, humor and more.

And without much further ado, I give you, my Short Stories Blog

See you there!

Getting back to poetry... my real Reflection

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My last entry in my Sugar Coated World made me realize one thing -- I need to write poems.

Although the mood of that piece was a dark one, it reminds me of where I came from... of what I am.

I am a self-proclaimed poet before I was a struggling blogger.

Like what I said when I traced how REFLECTIONS started, before there were blogs, url's and PRs -- there were only notebooks, an old reliable blue ink pen, and a lot of pent up emotions.

Those emotions were able to fill up three notebooks of verses of different moods, each one reflecting how I was feeling, what happened or what I saw at the time of writing.

And as I started my fourth REFLECTION early this year, the 11 entries written in it weren't really new, they were old poems that I have written after filling up the third notebook, which were just scattered everywhere. I still don't know if I have missed some, I can't remember.

As I write my latest poem in the notebook, there was a strange feeling... something that I didn't feel when I write on my blogs... but it was familiar... it's something that I have felt before.

I can't recall where I read it... but I do remember it something like...

When everything always fails, look back... trace your steps... trace your beginnings...

it might be a good time to start again...

so I am...

Pressured...

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It's the first week of the fourth month of the year... Yup! It's now the second quarter of the year, I would say, it's income tax season, but since I'm not employed, what do I care?

Obviously, I'm blabbering again... with nothing to say and no particular REFLECTIONS in mind. Honestly, right now as the title suggests, I am pressured.

Pressured about what? A lot of things.

For one, pressured to keep this blog updated and active. I've been at my other blogs and have no problem keeping them updated. After all, I have just to seek for the news, add my thoughts to it, a little humor here, some fire there... and voila! One blog post!

Unfortunately, I can't do that here. At the most is, to relate the news to the things that's happening in my life right now... hmmm, there's a thought.

But that's not reflections. The worst I can do to this blog is pollute it with posts that don't really have anything to do with my reflections... although I admit to doing it... but then again, I really don't get to do it much often lately.

Anyway, I do have a lot of ideas 'in the pipeline' for this blog... lots of things happening lately, I just can't put them into words... I don't know why.

I guess, I blabbered enough... and I think this can already count for a blog post... for the meantime.