Today, I have learned, much to my horror, that I an yet another victim of the iPad/Flash adobevwar. Now I can blog and use all the bells and whistles only if I use the standing Maccs, like my desktop or laptop, but not on my spanking new iPad so a big blaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh to all you Computer big-wigs and corporate geeks!!

Aren't I the dedicated one?

Wow and Begorah True Believers!!

It has been over 6 months since my last post. Well, I am alive, though I had the usual poking and prodding.

I will try so hard to be better, and I really want to thank everyone at BLOGGER for not dumping me.


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Location:Frances St,Omaha,United States

Today, l think there is something missing


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I wonder of anyone has bought my new book (LEAVENWORTH STREET) yet I have not been " doing good" lately, but I found a program that will help me change the damn website (brianbengtson.com) and I really need to do that.


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Late night Saturday, watching anime.

Currently, I am trying another in the never ending cycle of antidepressants. Do not ask me the name of this little sliver of a pill, but I do know that at one time it was used for thyroid problems.

I really hope this one works. Maybe I will be able to finally get back into my life of writer. At least I will be able to show some work that is somewhat new. Right now I can wave my new book in people's faces.

Anyway, FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST is on.

Brian


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Finally!!!!

Well fear fans, as I have promised, my new book of Poetryhas been released through the good people at The Backwaters Press. It is entitled LEAVENWORTH STREET, and features poetry that has never been published!! Look for it on Amazon &/or Barnes and Noble. I hope you all will enjoy!!


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Location:My living room

Guess what?

My newest book of poetry is now available through the usual sources. It is entitled LEAVENWORTH STREET and is published by The Bacwaters Press.
As soon as I can get someone to help me upgrade my webpage, things will be a bit simpler.

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Location:S 34th St,Omaha,United States

Monday morning/afternoon

I think I am failing at this Twitter thing, just like the way I keep up with this blog. Are you expected to read ALL of the "tweets," downloaded to me AND come up with as many of my own as I can?

I can barely keep with reading of comic books and discovering new channels on digital cable!!

I always thought that I was this cosmo-future-techno type guy, but now I wonder.


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Maybe this will work. . .

If this program works as well as the blurb says it does, maybe all these struggles and whiny excuses will finally end.


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Memories of 9/11 and Mikel

I tried to tell this story over in Twitter-land, but 140 characters just would not do it.

Since the "anniversary" of 9/11, I have been flashing back to this one central chunk of memory:

The day after the towers fell, I went to visit my best friend, Mikel, who was in hospice care after fighting the "good fight" with HIV and AIDS. There were so many times that we all thought we were going to lose him over the years that we had so much trouble (I know I did) accepting the fact that this time he was really going to die.

Anyways, when I came into his room, he had the small television (that I guess came with each room) turned onto the news (just like everyone did those first few days), and the light from that small box mixed with the afternoon light that escaped through the half-pulled drapes to give his skin an ashy glow.

He had lost so much weight by then. His six foot-five inch fame just couldn't fill out the hundred some pounds making him look like the proverbial skeleton-man

As I walked in, he turned his head to greet me.

"Have you been watching this, Brian?" he asked.

"Sure," I answered. I even told him that I had been watching the BBC news (on the BBC America channel) to see what the rest of the world was saying about this. He nodded, an then looked at me hard,

"Crazy times, " he mumbled, and then he gave me a look of pity, as if he was glad to be passing away now before anything else happened, and at the same time, I could feel his sorrow that I would still be here to experience it all.

That look he shot me haunts me sometimes. I remember his eyes, and the few short weeks he stayed with us, until passing that Halloween morning.

So every 9/11 I think about him, and that afternoon in his hospice room. And I wonder if he is still glad that he left before things "got worse."