Writer's BlockI have writers block, of this I am quite curtain.For as I sit here typing I am staring at the curtain.As I sit here thinking I can feel my brain grow numb,And honestly the more I try, the more I feel quite dumb.For though words flow from mind to page, and though I seem coherent,My thoughts get lost and papers tossed and one thing is apparent,That though I force the words to form they stutter, falter, stopUntil my writing turns into a muddled piece of slop.So now I stare at this poor piece and manage a small smileFor while my mind is filled with mush, I still made this worthwhile.
Learning to Trust: Chapter 1All my life I wanted to be a father. It was a passing wish in many ways; a dream I had begun to cherish but was scared to let come true. I wondered at times if I was father material considering my forgetful habits and my tendency to talk more than any one person would want to listen. Even with my doubts though, nothing made me more nervous than to consider what came (or should come) before becoming a father.I had always been nervous around women from the time I could first remember really being aware that girls meant something entirely different than cooties. It probably didnt help that, as I dated the few girls who would humor me, I wondered what type of mother they would be. As it turns out, a pretty fast turn off is asking how many children a woman would like to have.Even with my less than fluent interactions with women I was determined to be a father. The thought of a child looking to me for advice was the greatest thing I could ever fathom. The idea that a smal