I haven’t been working on the next chapter for 319 because I have been working on a possible short story for another site during the past week. I know I should be working on 319, but I’m focused on this other story. It involves a young teen who decides to run away from home, hoping to connect with his uncle in Fresno, California. The only problem is that he hasn’t quite figured out how he is going to get in contact with his uncle.

And, then a favorite song comes up:

That’s the problem with being a Type 1 Bipolar. You just never known when something will come up that does or doesn’t have anything to do with your narrative (or train of thought). As I think I said in an entry before this, I read a collection of John O’Hara’s New York stories. It was interesting because he doesn’t give character movements in his dialogues. In other words, it’s just straight dialogue that you might encounter in a play or movie script. In other words, you set the scene, add the characters, and go with the script (or dialogue). For many writers, they want to provide movement for the speakers, but in traditional fiction writers (as in literature) there is not movement added. You leave it up to the reader to imagine how the speakers are moving within the scene.

Oh, yeah, I forgot, sometimes life goes awry and you never quite know where you're going to turn up:

You see, I'm in a melancholy mood and I don't know where I'm going from here.

Anyway, I’m almost finished with this other story, which may be published on this other site, or if there are problems, I’ll just throw it up on GA and got with what may come. You see, I’m at an age where new stories are few and far between. I have to admit that the creative juices are running low and soon there will become a time when I will no longer be able to come up with anything original. Sorry, with my age and mental illness, there isn’t much more than I can do.

My son just served me two “special” brownies.

And, so, I sit here with two fourteen-year-old gay boys who don’t quite know where to go when they’re alone for some close interpersonal time.

So, I go forward and take two fourteen-year-old boys to the point where love blossoms.

As you can see life in mental illness is sometimes not quite want you want.