Microstory 2306: Appreciation for Symmetry

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The end of the year is approaching, and I’m taking stock of my life. All of Nick and Dutch’s final arrangements have been completed. I’ve started the process of getting Nick’s novel published, and beginning to look into who can help me do something with the stage musical. I’m selling the house, and weighing my options when it comes to where I want to live next. I may stay in the Kansas City area, or I may not. One thing I’m still really not sure about is this site. Nick started it at the beginning of the year, and I have only ever taken over when he’s been incapacitated, but should that last forever, now that he can never come back? Do I truly have the right? Would he want me to keep going? He was a man with an appreciation for symmetry. I think ending on December 31 would be poetic in a way that he would like if he were here to do it himself. A lot of people don’t get to live on like this at all. If they die when they’re in the middle of something, it just ends. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true. If you have a job, a coworker probably takes over your accounts, and if you have young children, someone raises them for you...at least that’s the hope, anyway. Still, I think it’s time to start thinking about ending this. His story may not technically be over if his legacy moves on, but it still feels like the right thing to do. You’ll always be able to read and reread all 365 posts that will be up by then, as well as everything he wrote on social media. I’m certainly not going to shut the whole thing down. But it was never really mine. Perhaps I’ll start my own blog after this, which chronicles the things that I do next year, and beyond. Or it will too end in a year. I don’t have to decide anything right now, but the deadline is coming up soon, so let me know what you think.

Microstory 1905: When I Lost My First Dog, I Was Distraught

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When I lost my first dog, I was distraught

I never thought I could love a second

Years passed before it was something I sought

Once I did, it was Daisy who beckoned

All of the puppies, they begged and they cried

Except for her, she just could not care less

The owner set the other dogs aside

And picked her up, my little crazy mess

On the ride home, I realized I’d been tricked

She wasn’t calm, no she was just as wild

And yet as we got acquainted, we clicked

She’s the closest thing I’ll have to a child

Sophie was basically my one best friend

And Daisy’s more my baby, in the end

Microstory 1904: I Lost My Faith in People Long Ago

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I lost my faith in people long ago

We are a selfish species, that’s for sure

There’s a reason to see others as foes

Evolution is strong, but there’s a cure

We can ignore our base instincts, it’s true

It’s possible to grow, and learn, and change

When you’re frustrated, don’t threaten to sue

Just take a break, or have a nap arranged

Most people are not wanting to attack

They live as best they can with what they bear

Conflicts arrive when trains must share a track

It’s not just that they hate you, or don’t care

I know some hearts are simply filled with hate

This simply means work harder to relate

Microstory 1903: Someone Has Left Two Birds on My Nice Lawn

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Someone has left two birds on my nice lawn

They are not meant to do that, it’s not cool

The birds stay there from dawn to dusk to dawn

They must think that I’m just a spineless fool

But I got my phone out to make a call

I told them, you best take these birds from here

The problem I have with them may sound small

You may think I sound joyless and austere

But I have the right to do as I will

With my own house, and all that surrounds it

That’s not your right, and don’t tell me to chill

That just makes it worse, I may throw a fit

If you don’t get these birds out of my sight

I’ll drive them to the dump, and strike a light

Microstory 1902: I Tried To Cook a Simple Meal Today

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I tried to cook a simple meal today

I gathered all of the ingredients

At least I thought I had the whole array

But not, judging from the odd mingled scents

I have been trying to improve myself

Getting my life in order and stable

I can’t just pull random food off the shelf

I’m careful with what goes on my table

Today I sure was not careful at all

Though I guess I always make some mistake

But as they say, I must learn how to fall

Then get up to find something new to make

To be honest, it wasn’t all that bad

Using sugar for flour’s the new fad

Microstory 1901: Sleep Never Has Been Something I Do Well

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Sleep never has been something I do well

I lie in bed and wait ‘til it’s ready

I think it’s because my brain can’t be quelled

I wish that my life could be more carefree

For others, it happens within minutes

But I’m lucky to fall in one hour

Waiting puts me at the end of my wits

I wish control was one of my powers

I’ve tried to take the pills, and meditate

I’ve tried to shut off screens, and just chill out

But this is how I am, it is my fate

I wish stress wasn’t all I was about

One day, I’ll lose my problems and retire

I wish it would happen soon, I’m so tired

Microstory 1900: I Said Before How I’m Not Into Cars

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I said before how I’m not into cars

There’s more to that, it’s rather personal

The troubles I’ve had with them have left scars

They’re the biggest problem with urban sprawl

They leak and break, and are always thirsty

They’re unsafe, and kill too many people

Yet they fetishize them so perversely

Or maybe they’re all just mindless sheeple

If I don’t see another car again

Then I would say that it was too early

I cannot wait for the brilliant days when

We get rid of the cars; don’t act surly

Build vertical, and take a lift instead

It will take minutes from your work to bed

Microstory 1899: I Have a Multitude of Interests

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I have a multitude of interests

While some of them are old, and some are new

Please don’t offer more, I don’t take requests

I know that you mean well, but it’s undue

Writing and TV are obvious ones

Others, like architecture are less so

But no, I don’t like sports, or cars, or guns

Don’t talk about them, I don’t want to know

A lot of things I like require cash

Most of the money I get goes to needs

When I make more, it is gone in a flash

And I’m left alone, trapped amidst the weeds

That’s why I love fiction; it has all things

But life could change by what the future brings

Microstory 1898: There Was a Time When I Thought I’d Be Huge

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There was a time when I thought I’d be huge

My words would be read all over the world

As it turns out, I’m nothing but a stooge

With my head low, like an achievemephobe

I say I’ve tried, but that’s not really true

I never put much effort into it

I queried agents, but only a few

I guess I thought I’d be an instant hit

But I see now, it’s time to get to work

To focus on the goals I hold most dear

To scratch and crawl myself out of the murk

And spread my voice beyond the blogosphere

I’ll still write here, and let you read for free

But I deserve to sometimes charge a fee

Microstory 1897: It’s Like I Said, I’m Not Like All the Rest

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It’s like I said, I’m not like all the rest

I don’t drink, or smoke, or poison my brain

That doesn’t mean that I think I’m the best

But I’m always me in spite of the pain

I have no place to go when I get lost

No way to leave my problems far behind

I dwell in them, and it comes at a cost

Yet I am nothing if I’m not my mind

Go ahead and take my legs, arms, and bones

My eyes, and ears, and tongue, and all my skin

My job, my money, and all that I own

I’d still say I was wealthier within

As long as I’m still me then I’ll survive

As long as I can think then I’m alive

Microstory 1896: I Was an Adult When I Learned the Truth

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I was an adult when I learned the truth

Why I was divergent from everyone

I have been this way ever since my youth

It’s not like my struggles had just begun

I do not quite know why it took so long

But I had already found ways to cope

I could tell that people saw me as wrong

I just could not yet recognize the scope

I’ve never really come out of my shell

Or tried to make my brain work as theirs do

If you don’t like it, you can go to hell

Get woke, it is two thousand twenty-two

I guess I got a bit too angry there

I’m a work in progress; I try, I swear

Microstory 1895: There is Something That Is Wrong With My Life

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There is something that is wrong with my life

It has been this way for the last five years

Each day that comes is like twisting the knife

Being stuck might just be my greatest fear

When I was younger I so wanted this

To be a part of something that would last

But now it’s come it’s anything but bliss

I wish that I could go back to the past

I work quite hard, but never feel quite pleased

I’m thinking now I should just go back out

And hunt for greener grass to feel at ease

But I’m sure once I’m there, I’ll find a drought

So I’ll just suffer until it all ends

Or ’til a Deus ex machina descends

Microstory 1894: I Want to Lose the Weight That I’ve Accrued

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I want to lose the weight that I’ve accrued

To melt the fat that’s made my clothes too tight

The problem is that I eat too much food

That’s no surprise to you—no rare insight

I have started a diet to fight back

It’s too early for it to have worked yet

Calories are the main thing my meals lack

But I could always find more; that’s the threat

The best thing I can do is just buy less

It will help save money while I’m at it

And that’s the key to relieving my stress

Giving all of my weight to my wallet

Temptation has been a slippery slope

But I think it might stick this time, I hope

Microstory 1893: The Grass Will Grow Until I Mow Again

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The grass will grow until I mow again

The rain will fall, and make it taller still

If it’s too wet, I can’t even begin

How shall my duty ever be fulfilled?

They tell me just to catch and throw away

To make straight lines like a professional

My lawn will look nicer, or so they say

But I think that’s just harder, and it’s dull

The clippings add nutrients to the soil

Which makes the baby blades grow big and strong

I know I said that this means endless toil

But it will be winter before too long

Of course, the snow, it needs maintenance too

But I could also just let it melt through

Microstory 1892: When I Was Young, I got a Puppy Girl

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When I was young, I got a puppy girl

I brought her home and gave her all my love

To me, Sophie was the best in the world

It felt like God had sent her from above

She lived outside and kept watch over us

But she could melt my heart with one sad glance

We’d let her in when she put up a fuss

The squirr’ls and rabbits would have one more chance

It wasn’t long before God took her back

I’ll never forgive her for all that pain

But Soph wouldn’t want my heart to turn black

So I try to be good and not complain

I always act with patience and courage

‘Til we meet again on the rainbow bridge

Microstory 1891: Introduction to Sonnets

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About a year and a half ago, I tried my hand at poetry. It wasn’t the first poetry I ever wrote in my life, but it was the first time I thought maybe someday someone might read them. Here we are again, but while those were free verse, these are sonnets. Sonnets are a very rigid format that somehow let you go anywhere you want. Fourteen lines, every other line in a stanza rhymes, until the last two lines, which rhyme with each other. That’s not all, you have to have ten syllables exactly in each line. But even that doesn’t explain it, because iambic pentameter is more about rhythm too. Unlike my first poems, which were from the perspective of some of my characters, I believe that these ones will come from me. I’ve already written the first one; half months ago, half today. That’s probably not really how you’re meant to do it, but I think I ran out of time, and forgot about it. The idea was to have them locked and loaded before my last series ended, but when has that ever worked out for me? I’m more nervous about these than my last poetry series, since they’ll be about my personal life. The first one is about my first dog, and the last one will be about my current dog. I have no clue what I’ll write about in the meantime. As before, please be kind—I’m at my most vulnerable here. I think I’ve mentioned at some point that I am not a wordsmith. My strengths lie in the narratives; not the execution of the text. Still, I had to do these, because the math works out too perfectly. After today, there are fourteen days left this year before I get to my huge Mateo Matic project. It just made sense to write fourteen sonnets of fourteen lines each, and then likely never again. They’re obviously going to be short; nothing I can do about that, so the whole thing will be a quick read. Wish me luck.

Microstory 1790: Mateo Daily

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First off, I probably could have figured out how to squeeze in one more constellation to round out the year, but I wanted to take this opportunity to talk about my plans for next year. I’m going to be doing something wildly different with my macroseries, The Advancement of Mateo Matic. So far, I’ve mostly been writing one installment per week. The first one didn’t come out until the middle of March in my first year, so it only has 42 installments. In fact, I actually doubled up on one day, because I hate the number 41. The next year was pretty normal, but the third year, while there were 53 Sundays, I still only did 52 installments, because I skipped a week for narrative reasons. Ever since then, though, I’ve been able to keep to a steady routine of 52 installments per year. That is all about to change, but not permanently. Everything will hold to convention for the first 24 weeks. Mateo’s story will continue as you would expect, year by year. So too will my current Saturday mezzofiction series, Extremus. I have two microfiction series lined up as well. The first is a return to my Vantage Points multiseries, which will give way to 14 original sonnets. I’m scared about that last one, but hopefully I’ll come up with some good stuff by then. The last sonnet will post on June 10. The last entry in the second volume of Extremus will post on June 11. A new installment for TAMM will be on June 12, but I’m not yet sure how long it’s going to be, or whether the official changeover will happen the following day, where you will find...another installment of The Advancement of Mateo Matic. The next day, there will be another, and then another, and so on.

Throughout the rest of the year, I’ll only be posting TAMM stories. No mezzofiction, and no microfiction. Though, because expecting myself to write 2,000 words—give or take—every day is unreasonable, they will be shorter than usual. I’ll probably do at least 600 words, but I’m not sure yet. I’m not holding myself to anything that restrictive. Each one will take place a day after the last, as we follow Mateo and the team through their latest adventures. They’ll probably be more subdued, and less intense. They’ll probably be family-oriented, with less action. They might read like diary entries. Again, I don’t know yet. I have to get to that point before I really know where the story is going. I serve the story, not the other way around. There is a reason why the team will fall off their pattern, and a reason why it will last them a full year, but I’ve decided to not give that away just yet. If I had chosen to start this in January, I might have said something, but since it’s so far out, I call that a spoiler. This new posting method will continue until the middle of July 2023 when I start a new microfiction series called Conversations, and begin volume 3 of Extremus. I will also get back to the weekly installments of TAMM, and while the story will continue to evolve, I presently have no intentions of altering the posting schedule further. I think I messed up the math, so we’ll see what it looks like when I finish working on the calendar, but I’m sure it will be fine. Speaking of math, I came up with this in my first year, before I had tampered with Mateo’s pattern, so this felt like a much more dramatic change. Since then, he and Leona haven’t always jumped forwards each day anyway. Still, I’m excited, and I hope you are too. This started as a working title, but it’s the best I’ve come up with. I’m obviously calling it...Mateo Daily.

Microstory 1721: Sea Monster

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The sea monster kills everything it touches

Nothing can escape its darkness

We rescue many who get too close

But some are too far gone

They perish before we reach them

It is my job to do everything I can to help as many as I can

But I want to do more

I want to stop the monster from taking more innocent lives

It has been this way for years

Though many would doubt this truth

Some are greedy, but most are simply ignorant

Those who worship the sea monster believe in its purpose

They did before, and they still do, even now

They think they have it contained

They think they had it tamed

They refuse to see how destructive the monster is

Even when it’s doing as they command

Fish are drawn to its pretty colors

Birds try to rest upon its back

It snatches them up, and spits them back out

They are never the same

The darkness is on them forever, unless someone like me comes along

Only we are compelled to help them

Only we are willing to take the time

Now the monster is on a rampage

Now it is spreading its darkness indiscriminately

Now those who would harness its power admit that something is wrong

But they are powerless to stop it, or so they say

We continue to save the creatures

But we are indeed powerless to stop it

Only they can stop the monster

Only they can put it back in its cage

I want to do more

I want to kill it, so it can do no more harm to my world

But it cannot be killed

Destroying it would do just as much damage as it is doing now

Destroying it would simply spread more darkness

The fight against the sea monster must take place on land

It takes place in the courts, and on the pages of the news

It takes place in the hearts of all who would oppose the monster

These companies believe that the monster will provide

But it is we who provide

And it is we who can starve them

Microstory 1588: Inside Rain

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Prompt

It’s raining inside my house

There’s not a hole in the roof, or anything

There just appears to be a magical tiny cloud in here

Full of rain

Botner

I’ll turn on the lights

It’s nothing

“There it is again. There’s rain in here”

There are streams of tiny droplets flying around inside my house

There are rivulets running from the sink

The ceiling fan is swirling

It is pouring water outside, but inside, the rain doesn’t stop

The amount of rain isn’t right for the space

It’s somehow magically getting sucked in here

There’s a web of tiny clear water drops suspended in the air in the kitchen

There are tiny strands of electric current floating in the air

Between my hands and the lights

It’s raining inside my house, and I can’t turn it off

I am hopelessly lost, unable to find the source of the rain

I am losing control

I am at war

This is what it’s like to have a migraine

I’m screaming at people, but they’re no longer there

The world is completely warped

I start bleeding from the eyes

They feel like they’re about to fall out

I’m so confused, I can’t find the words

There’s a carpet of sunflowers with tiny flecks of...

Conclusion

...of diamonds and gold

It’s money I can’t use

I won’t

It’s raining inside my house, and I don’t want it to stop

It washes away my past

It clears a way to the future

“You have to get your house in order,” they say

Well here I am, I’m doing it

I’m cleaning

I’m letting go of everything holding me back

I couldn’t do it better myself if I tried

Nothing is as powerful as this

As exacting

As relentless

It’s raining inside my house

And when it stops, I will be free

Microstory 1529: Conclusion to Poems

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I wanted to take a moment to reflect on these last several weeks

I wrote my poetry a little different than most

Sometimes it landed

Sometimes not

Do I regret it?

No, I wouldn’t say that

I think it just reinforced my beliefs

I am not a poet, and I never will be, even if I were to try harder

Do not mistake my resignation as some kind of depressive realization

I’m fine with what kind of writer I am

And what kind I’m not

I like prose

I always have

I prefer the video formats

But until I catch my big Hollywood break

I’m going to stick with my website, and keep trying to tell good stories

This does not mean that I will no longer be doing experimental formats

I will keep challenging myself, and my audience

In whatever way that goes

However small

Or unimpressive

I will keep making content

Not simply for the sake of putting my stuff out there

Because writing is the only thing I truly know how to do, and I can’t stop