white sailboat on water

Change of Tack

I will still be writing here a few times a week, but am currently working on submissions and projects to try and earn some money out of my writing. I’m currently working on a short story for a competition which has an introduction to a top literary agent as a prize, and on getting things in order to be sent off to other publications and competitions. Patreon proved to be a bust, people don’t want to pay for a blog to be written when they can get it for free, and I have to do something to try and stay in this apartment.

My ‘husband’ won’t divorce me, and I can’t get any lawyer to help force it through, so I am in the strange position of being married and not having seen him for over 5 years. He sits in a nice house with his investments and his pension, I am sitting here terrified of my future without my son, and his future without me.

I hope 2022 is treating everybody well, and that I can return here with some fresh writing and good news this year. Recovering from false hope, insane people who don’t seem to realize that I had suffered enough, various personal tragedies and the absolute stress of being undocumented in the USA and recovering from living outside for over five years, is proving to be something I don’t have time for if I don’t want to be back out there, and this time I would have to let my Boy go somewhere else. He cannot do it again with me and I love him so dearly, and he loves me so much, I at least have to try and survive together. It is going to be a long hard road to try and accomplish that. I fear that I won’t be able to.

He never did get a full baseball game, mostly because of his undocumented status, and just about has given up on the sport. What boy born here can say they never had the chance to play little league? People don’t care, not even those who ran the baseball training facility cared enough to get him a game when he had worked so hard and threw so well. Instead he runs and lifts weights in an attempt to build himself up enough to defend himself and me.

I used to care that we were not wanted here. Now I couldn’t give less of a damn. This is our home. This is where we belong, and this is where we are staying. USA. Best country in the world, for all our problems, and even then, I have never felt as at home as I do here in San Francisco. I belong here, so does the kid…I have to work out, for once in my life, how to stay exactly where I am right now, with exactly who i am with. Stasis is the goal, even if it never has been before.


  1. Time Traveler of Life

    I feel the same way about finding a house that I feel comfortable laying down my money on. But I am still looking. I think that we have been priced out of the market. We are reluctant to take on the size of mortgage that we will have to, to get what we want and need. We may have to make different plans for housing. Sending Hugs!!!

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