I have grown tired of simply maintaining.

This futile act of moving without gaining.

I try to tell myself this is just the status quo.

That all of us have to keep going to and fro.

In these acts we must continue to persist.

Not a one of us has the strength to resist.

So I must find a way to turn despair into power.

To change repetitious fate before my final hour.

by Nicholas Byrley

Another random day, another poem. As always, feel free to leave feedback and have a good day. Hope you all enjoyed the rhyming this time.


Image found at leventep.deviantart.com.

Image found at leventep.deviantart.com.


I dreamt in words once, it was a waking dream.

That night has long since fled, chased away by star and time.

Now I find myself dreamless and wordless, lost and mute.

I am a stowaway in my body, my mind a shiftless transient.

Still I am drawn on to journey’s end, to the next beginning.

by Nicholas Byrley

Maybe I’ll figure it out some day.

Been working my usual hours but now starting a week of vacation from my primary job, just going to be working my part time jobs this week. Gonna spend the days with my family as well as leisurely periods of writing, gaming, and bowling. Just started my bowling league again so I have to get back in good form. Hope you all have a good week.

Intermission = Sabatical

Image found at www.cleanbreak.ca.

Image found at http://www.cleanbreak.ca.

Or Something Like That..

My brief intermission turned into an extended absence. Turns out managing work, family, and more work is harder than it looks. It’s almost three months since I posted last. I sadly have little to show for it, mostly just scribbles in my notebooks. Still, there are some poems I can tidy up and post, maybe a little flash fiction. But not too much overall. Been working a lot obviously, actually working three jobs at the moment. I figured two wasn’t too bad, so why not three. It’ll also get me to where I want to go faster, so that’s a bonus. Six days a week, 85 hours on average, and one day off to keep my sanity. I kinda want to see how far I can go.

Its kind of like juggling, only with hours instead of balls. Just a matter of keeping them all going up and around properly. Some hours to sleep, a couple to eat, lots to work, and a few here and there to unwind and spend with family. Writing has been losing out to time with the wife and gaming. The release of Rome 2: Total War hasn’t helped that ratio. Though now that its out and I had my fix, I figured I should make an update. Maybe post a few things.

In the meanwhile, I’ll go on living the dream. Its a little exhausting, a little thrilling. Just to keep it all up. Really not as hard as I thought it would be. And I figure if I can do this now, then later when I quit the extra jobs I have no reason not to dedicate time to writing. Definitely learning how to better manage my time and energy. Not sure if anyone still reads my posts, but feel free to comment if you do. Its always appreciated.


When Is a Post Not a Post?


When it’s a status update! Ha-yuk, ha-yuk.

But seriously, just an update. It is 1:30am right now and I get up at 5, so bare with me. Probably no posts this weekend or anything else tonight, worn down from work. I’ll have put in almost 70 hours in five days by the end of the day tomorrow. So, ready for a break.

It is the birthday of the love of my life this week, my beautiful wife. Going to enjoy having Saturday off and spend it with her, got a lot planned so heres to it all going well.

Beyond that I do have more poems, though a lot of them are depressing/a bit angry. Been a little frustrated with life at times lately if anyone has got the hint. But though it is yet unposted, things have been changing towards the more positive.

I’m also pondering writing instead of reading on my breaks/lunches at work, or maybe a mix. I feel like I could use that time for short stories, though the breakroom is full of distractions. Still tossing the idea around, I want to produce more writing than I am right now. Need to find some way to do that even with these fourteen-fifteen hour workdays.

So anyway, if you don’t see my random musing/ramblings just picture me relaxing somewhere with my wife and you all enjoy your weekend.

80 Hours

80 hours. That is how many hours I worked between Monday and Saturday of this last week at my two jobs combined. Bit crazy and a bit exhausting, but not too bad. I really am enjoying working in a retail environment. I had a lot of different expectations coming into it. Fear about bad customers, being made into a salesman, and other such issues. I’ve gotten nothing but good experiences to relate however. Customers are generally friendly or just focused, and I like helping people find what they need.

It is kind of like playing trivia with strangers. Every right answer tickles that part of my nerd brain that likes to prove it knows things. Then I also do stuff like ‘zoning’, which is getting all product at the front and making sure it looks right. My touch of OCD makes that something I like doing as well. Then there are miscellaneous tasks to perform, but nothing really strenuous. All in all I find retail pretty easy and a definitely more relaxed setting from my job in a warehouse. There is also lots of interesting people to meet, pieces of their lives they relate in small conversations. I’ve always been an observer of people, so I must confess I do a lot of this as I work. Not staring or being rude, I just kind of try to figure people out.

As far as writing goes in my life, it has mostly been stalled still. I’ve written five or six poems I need to run through final drafts and get up on here, but nothing story wise. I have had some spare moments to myself in which to write, but I have been idling that time away with games or distractions. So, nothing new there for me. The only thing holding me back is of course, me. There is really not much more to say on that. I’m going to try (again) to get some of my poems up, but Sunday is a busy day for me. Gotta get ready for the week and try to grab quality time with the family. Hoping you all have a good Sunday and week.

Redundant Employment

Redundant Employment

I got the final confirmation today on a part-time job I had applied for. I will now be working nights and weekends after my other job. We desperately need more money right now, so it is a huge blessing. My wife and I are still trying to catch up from having a baby and her not working for a year. I am excited about this, but also a little nervous. I have a tendency towards overworking/workaholic/whatever you want to call it. I don’t really want to have two jobs consume my life. But I also believe I wouldn’t have it if not by the grace of God. Doors opened up for this and people that had no motive to help me did so, so I am thankful for that.

My other fear is that I will write even less working two jobs, which I believe is a valid one. It is a retail job, so it isn’t as fast paced as my current job. But I don’t know how much opportunity I will have to jot things down in my pocket notebook. I will just have to see. There will still be days off and windows in between the two jobs, so I can try to use those times more wisely as well. And the simple truth is also that with abundant time I have right now, I have not really been writing. So less time won’t change my lack of motivation. Perhaps it will make me appreciate it more.

I’m still at the point of having tons of ideas but a lack of motivation. I did get my first official rejection the other day, for a poem I submitted to Asimov’s. In retrospect it was only barely sci-fi and not really about anything significant. So I wasn’t too surprised to be rejected. It actually is kind of nice to be officially denied, even if the response looked like a form letter. I have such a strong urge to write that wars against my lack of motivation. I also take great enjoyment in it, which is another reason I find it odd I put it off so much.

I suppose I’m just a little crazy, like most people. Anyway, I shall keep writing and keep working. I will be able to rest a little easier with more money, no more paycheck to paycheck living. Being able to work on paying off debts and saving money is something I’m looking forward to. That’s all the news I have for now. Got a couple poems I’ve been working on that I will try to post later today.


Image found at sivers.org.

Image found at sivers.org.


It is an itch that can’t be scratched, an urge that always lingers.

Like a phantom limb it throbs and tingles, lurking at the edge of awareness.

The sensation cries out for relief, for indulgence to be had.

Neither good nor bad, the flesh-bound feeling knows no moral.

At willpower’s end the drive is met, reason consumed by passion.

But it is a thirst that can’t be quenched, emptiness ever the final result.

by Nicholas Byrley


I haven’t been writing much lately, absorbed in work and then vegging out with games after work. I’ve had lots of inspiration and ideas, just a serious lack of motivation. It seems like such a tall task at times, just to sit down and write. I find myself wondering why I want to. My goal of writing books seems pretty far-fetched when I can’t even write a short story.

That is of course, all self defeating nonsense and pity. For my situation and my troubles. We’ve all got issues, we’ve all got troubles, and situations abound. I need to just get over it. Time is the only thing I truly have to fight for, it comes in bursts. Much of it is spent taking care of my daughter and spending time with my wife after work. I find it hard to see the line between what I should do and I can do. I can care for my wife and child 100% of the way, but it leaves nothing for myself.

Such a thought makes me feel guilty, even though my rational brain says it shouldn’t. My priorities should be God, myself, my wife, my daughter, and so on. Writing is hard to pin in there. I want to make it a priority, but its a step I kind of tripped on before. I came home for a couple months straight and posted once a day, and my relationship suffered some for it. My wife is understandably jealous of something that absorbs me completely and takes her out of my arms, however briefly.

But its hard to convey sometimes what it means to me. It isn’t that I feel I have a knack for writing and want to see what I can do. I have a desire to write that doesn’t go away. My wife is still trying to find what she really wants to do in life, so maybe that is why it is hard for her to understand. It isn’t a hobby, it isn’t a passing fad, its something I need to fully embrace and come to terms with.

Whether I publish ten books or none, I will forever be a writer. Even if my short stories are all full of bad dialogue and barely long enough to have the name, I am still a writer. Unpublished, unknown, my scribbles scattered on digital walls, I am a writer. This is what this period of idleness and introspection has taught me. As with most things I have learned over the years, I realize it may not be an unshakeable truth. We are creatures of change, and I am not the one to say what God has in store for me.

I think that is all I can say for now, I hope you enjoyed my rambling. I plan to start updating again, and committing myself to harder work. Sink or swim, as they say.

Stolen Moments

Stolen Moments

We live in a world that never stops, progress ever demanding.

There exists no time for thinking, no time to ponder.

Only work to be done, a list of endless tasks awaiting.

In this strife we search for balance, an opposite to our constant labor.

We can find but fleeting moments, mere seconds as precious as gems.

With these we make our mark, thieving back the time thought lost.

by Nicholas Byrley

Some days it seems very difficult to have any time for yourself. Between work, family, biological necessities and everything else that goes with being a human time is very precious. On these busy days I really appreciate the lulls, those stolen moments I get to take back for myself.



by Nicholas Byrley

Self existed for many years. It was aware, and yet also unaware. In many ways Self simply was. It did not have a problem with that. Things had always been that way, so they would always stay that way. However, Self became aware of some oddities in time. It noticed something beyond Self, things. It was wrapped around this thing, a hard lump. At first, Self thought it perhaps it was part of Self, just a part it could not feel.

This answer satisfied it for many more years, until a similar lump fell from above Self and struck It. Self knew pain, and knew confusion. But from this lesson it realized the lump that struck it was the same as the lump Self was on. Therefore, it must be something not of Self. All things then were not actually Self. If this was the case, then there must be Others. Self knew loneliness.

It passed the intervening years after the lump fell from the sky experimenting with It’s boundaries. Self knew the breadth of its domain, and could shape portions or even all of itself differently on the lump it occupied. Self trained it’s senses on the above, watching for more lumps, watching for the Others. Self knew that if it was, then the Others must be as well.

They might even be smarter than Self, more knowledgeable. They could answer many questions Self was beginning to have.

Self waited a long time, eons passing as the above shifted in its endless cycles. More lumps came in time, some slightly different from the first one but all just more lumps. Self added them to the pile it had made, not sure what else to do with them. Finally the day came that a lump unlike other lumps came. It was buzzing, vibrating, and whirring. It came down not hard, but softly.

It was different from the others, special somehow. Self examined it carefully, years of thoroughly checking the lumps from above lending it expertise in the survey. This lump was hollow, and full of gasses. Self put pressure on the lump, it bent inward easily. The buzzing and vibrating increased when It did that, and It was surprised.

It responded to Self’s actions and seemed almost to be watching It. This lump was not a lump at all, but an Other. Self knew joy.

It was no longer alone. It had many questions for this strange tiny Other, but knew not how to ask it. Since it had responded when Self applied pressure, It tried that again. This time it persisted longer and was happy to see the buzzing and noises increase dramatically.

But something happened, the Other gave a loud pop and then suddenly broke apart. The pressure was too much. Self tried to gather the myriad parts and pieces of the other back together, but no matter what way It arranged them, the Other would communicate no longer. The Other was no more. Self knew sadness.

It placed the Other on the the lumps it had previously collected, hoping to attract more. It would be different next time Self decided, It knew the limits of the Other now. It would just take more time, and then It could find out all it wanted to know….

***CNS “Landfall” Log: The shuttle we sent down to Gliese 581c to examine the planet has not returned. An alien mass we first mistook as an ocean that seems to stretch across the entire surface of the world swallowed, and then crushed our vessel. I grieve for the loss of our men and women who volunteered to search for a new home there. There is an attitude among the crew that we should sterilize this world, but I see no need. It holds no intelligence, no malice. It is another mindless organism amongst many we have found, and it would be a waste. I will settle instead on simply marking the star charts and sending this information back to Earth, so that none shall make the mistake of landing on this world again.

-Captain Brock Grunweld of the Colonization Navy Ship “Landfall” ***

Watching my lava lamp made me thing of primordial ooze and this is the result. Interestingly, this is another case where the image found afterwards fits the story. Although I had originally gone with Gliese 667Cc as the planet, searching for Gliese afterwards found this rendition of Gliese 581c I knew I had to use. Let me know what you think.