Relentless: Don't move, don't give in, give in... give Some people think it0s about being tough, being hard. Though character comes only from having suffered more than maybe the next guy. A man might go through something really retched, and having survived is then tougher than he was before, Being hard comes form being I have hardened, It doesn't really seem desirable to be tough or hard, but I must survive. I have determined to persevere and not to give up in spite of the pain that keeps coming back over and over. That's the only real reason I can go on at all. It is because I know that it stops even if for a time, it stop hurting for a while and life shines in like sunshine through the living room window. When the pain comes, it smashes me. I fight it knowing that I will last longer that it does. Everything changes, feelings change, situations change, pain changes. It is a matter of perseverance. Relentless perseverance. The pain rages against the inside of my skull like huge waves crashing upon the rocks. It is a storm inflicted by unknown forces of nature that cannot be stopped. I fight but I cannot hope to abate the pain. No, I fight for my dignity. I fight to keep the hope that promises relief. Other men and women have failed in this same fight, I know. I do not condemn them, nor do I pity them. They made their choice. All things considered, the choice was not unreasonable. In my own situation, I have withstood 24 years of the mist exquisite pain known to medical science. That is often how th medical journals describe the Cluster Headaches that assault me. They come in cluster: as many as three days for up to five days running- I want to brag that I have accomplished something that is difficult, but the truth is that I have only managed to hang around longer that the pain. I cannot say anything in particular will definitely bring about the pain, and I'm never sure how long it will last. All I know is that it will get better! If I just stay with it, and not give up, then the pain will go away. That is my hope. So, I persevere. I think a lot of people have gotten by in the same way. We all just keep on going. Having survived, we are thought ones we don't have any medals hanging out our chests. There are no certificates, awards or plaques for us to show.Our continued existence is our testimony. We are relentless. When forces completely beyond our control force terrible pressure upon us, we don't relent, we will remain when they have done with us. I don't know if other s feel the same4 way I do about this, but it wears me down. I feel so tired at times that it is almost like I could just let slip the grip I have and wonder if I wouldn't just slide into the abyss. Have stood at that edge, and felt as if my grip had slid to the very edge of my finger tips. It was as if I was balances in one timeless moment were the choice was altogether one way or the other. I could go in only one of just two directions. I have always leaned. Pushed, clawed and dragged towards the relentless condition of my life. I have stood at the edge, looked in, and I know what is my character. I'm relentless.

What if God got blinked?

Sometimes I feel like a bit of a freak. I guess I don't mind because I keep acting the part, but how I can help it? I'm the way I am, at least at the moment. I try my best, or at least I do want to even id it seems like I could somehow do better. My jokes often fall flat, my cute quips flounder. People half smile and mumbled: “OK...” Oh, I don't think of it as utter rejection. It does seem like something less than total acceptance either. My ego has come to a place where I am OK with me and how I affect people, but I don't want to alienate anyone. After all, I do like people. Oh, there are so many disappointments, out on the whole, I would have to say that I'm more in favor of compassion than I am supportive of disassociative behavior. Certainly, this place makes dependency and bitterness a real problem. Someone gets down, and it has an impact on everyone around them. That's one of the reasons I try to avoid the pity party. Perhaps most people would not put it that way. I guess the normative view might be to say that is important to engage a pro social behavior for the common good of the members of the particular social unit... OK that language might be normative of a sociologist or something.
Great, I can't really guess at what a normative statement might really sound like just at the moment. Given enough time, I believe I could at least fake it. I don't know , I just fell like something of an outsider.. That's fine in prison. I don't want to be with the in-crowd here. I have managed to move in and through these cycles with a very comfortable level of acceptance. We all get along just fine, but I don't want to be anyone's homie. I don't want to be triple help. Let them be cool. I'll just do my own thing and be happy. It does work for me. I fell love and compassion for people, even the challenging one. Compassion is not always the first response, but it can come later even if I must grab hold with but hands and drag it to the front of my soul. It can be difficult to be accepting of other when it seems as if they y be less accepting of themselves. No Problem: love 'em anyway. There are some really, really unattractive people. I don't mean they look ugly, I mean that they act ugly. I'm learning o be less critical that way. As I treat people the way I want to be treated , and fell good about it, I become more and more comfortable it is the way I feel about myself and how I fit into the world. It really doesn't matter how they act, it is more about what I do that makes me feel comfortable about my little place in the world.

Oh God

I repent for the things I'v done and should have done

for the things I've said and should have said

for the things I've thought and should have thought.

Thank you Lord for Your blessings yesterday

Please bless today and make it holy

Please help me live a holy life today



All she has

A poor old woman, once there was.

Her husband long since dead.

She worked her fingers to the bone

To keep her family fed.

She labored for each meal they ate.

And daily did she strive

To scant produce what they need most

And keep them all alive.

No Bible did she ever own.

From sermons that she’d heard,

Though sometimes they’d no food to eat,

She fed them with the Word.

She early rose each Sabbath morn.

And walking while she’d sing.

She trod a mile in worn out shoes

To make her offering.

She didn’t stop to think of what

Tomorrow held in store.

Through tears she prayed, “I love you God.

I wish I could give more. ”

Some rich folk, showing their disdain

and overflowing pride,

laughed when they saw the woman put

her last two cents inside.

Each week she gives all that she has

Because she loves the Lord.

And since she gives all from the heart

She earns a grand reward.


The Battle

Listen to me my friends,

And the story that I tell.

I’m sure a few of you,

Have a story just as well.

Mine is about the woman,

Whom I took for my bride.

How she turned my love to pain,

No matter how hard I tried.

Now I’ve stood up in battle,

Never daunted always proud.

Even in my losses,

The lord knows I never cowered.

But when my woman let me,

It dropped me to my knees.

I begged her for mercy,

My voice heard only by the breeze.

Her weapon was my love for her

And with this she blinded me.

She then tore my heart out

Cast my soul into the sea

No counter attack,

No time for a retreat.

I knew not of the battle,

So I was already beat.

So I say to you my friends.

Before you live love a try.

Remember my story

And if you should lose as I.

The pain of love will haunt you

Until the day you die.

Write to me:

Clinton Everett

J-76643 310-1-19U Po box 9

Avenal, CA 93204