I’m just gonna keep on trying — keep on reaching for the big leagues. As if I’m blessed for only that. As if the future will not kick my ass. Riddled in monkey’s paw, I’m both a professional baseball player and a homicidal maniac. That’s what it feels like to fail out of a novel. On one hand able to to do great things in theory but on the other unwilling to ford through life any longer, just call it a novella and call it a day. Sometimes the process entailing writer’s block, something I thought I’d never get, makes me feel like doing that, but that I won’t. A proper ending is in order. It’s already planned. Just needs to be written. May I muster the power. Persistence must prevail.