Tag Archives: life

Broken body

broken body, why do you break?

cracking, breaking, how easily you flake.

pieces of me fly into the wind.

never to return again.

forgotten me, how easily we forget.

you me, they all forget.

faces equating screen names in the night.

forgotten with the silencing of a light.




Could I write a moment of inspiration to last a lifetime. On some days I hope to. Inspired mind moves inspired pen, we write our hearts in the night while hanging our troubles from the moon’s curve. A moment to be free, to freely move those digits across keys meant to be pressed. What greater joy is there than doing your passion whatever passion that may be. Redoundency found in redundantly doing that which we love is a good routine. That special bond our hand finds with fencing swords, pots, or pens is special. I treasure that. I need that.

-Opinionated Man


I see my father every day

Each year I post on Mother’s Day a message to my birth mother. It is a simple post.

Dear Birth Mom,

I still hate you one more year.

Ahn Soo Jin

These posts have been some of the most hated writing on this blog and I understand why. I don’t think people understand the “why” behind the posts though or why I rarely address my birth father.

I see my father every day. I see his face in the mirror looking back at me and I know what the bastard looks like. You see I am him, I have to be. For sons we are always connected to our fathers even when we don’t know who that father is. It creates a mind fuck actually because we that are adopted must ask ourselves if we hate our own image. How truly depressing is that thought.

Do I hate my father? Honestly, not as much as I hate my mother. There is no connecting story, no sneak thief in the night leaving me on the street. Perhaps he left long before I was abandoned, I will never know and it really makes no difference. He will always be a stranger to me. As dead as dead can be.

The same cannot be said for my birth mom. She is very much alive. She has kept me from meeting my sister. She has refused to see me. To me she is the very definition of a bitch and I will always hate her. Will it forever be an active hate? No, probably not. In fact I feel as if my hate towards her is a dormant fire now, very much alive and yet not active.

Hate is a strong emotion that can serve a person that knows how to dominate it. I do not allow my hate to control me, even though some might claim that harboring hate IS allowing it to control you. I assume those people probably have good lives free of lingering pain. Good for them. I am not so lucky and have chosen instead to keep my hate as a companion. It keeps me warm at night as others cheerfully offer “happy mother’s day” to their loved ones. I see two eyes on those nights and they will always belong to a stranger.

-Opinionated Man


Ok Apple

So either I sleepwalk or they count how many times I rolled around while asleep. I must be grabbing my phone too while doing this…

You won’t ever see any running miles on my phone. I only run from stranger danger, giant balls of light in the sky, and women with knives.


Different Shoes

A Korean is forever parted from his shoes. Courtesy and manners dictate we leave them at the door for anyone to take. Sometimes I stand before the rows of other people’s lives and desire to step into their life for just a few feet or a tumble. For do we not normally fall while trying to duplicate the steps of others? Especially when wearing these size 12s… who ever heard of a Korean wearing a size that big? I must see what life this is, who owns the worn path by these shoes?

I close my eyes and step into your blog.



Daily Denver – Go Broncos!


Bronco Nation

7 hours from now I will be watching Peyton Manning and the Broncos. That makes me happy just thinking about it! And who doesn’t love $10 beers??? :)

Note: I’ll catch up on comments later. Be safe bloggers!

Note 2: Tom Brady is a freaking cheater! Enjoy that tarnished legacy you cheating loser!




Ok guys…

I know I said I was going to be nice and all, but what the hell is up with the newsletters? I know some moron must have wrote a blog post on how newsletters are a great way to promote your website, but using your WordPress blogger list to force subscribe people is like sending out a robocall. Don’t do that shit. Half of your newsletters fucking suck anyways. 1000 words on a word document is not a fucking newsletter. Grow a brain.

-Opinionated Man


Heavy Heart

My heavy heart beats matching your footsteps as you walk away. A silent, somber beat of farewell that only I can hear or tell. It is hell. And yet I wave as we part, smiling that false smile of confidence I will always give you. Even as my heart breaks and the pieces tumble inside of me. Could I pause this moment so that the moment could not end, I might. A heavy heart knows no end, but it knows a beginning.


Broken Tongue

You speak with a broken tongue, breaking words for your amusement. It amuses no one but yourself, and yet your crooked smile is smile enough for others. What joke must be spinning within your mind, a joke so far inside. Selfishly laughing at the world because you can. Never speaking plainly because that is boring, that can be done by anyone. But can you mumble a broken spirit with a broken tongue. Crooked nature fully formed because you accept it. Broken man, how broken are you? How did you break your tongue so.



Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter

She comes into your life and brings nature’s blessing. And with her entrance comes a curse of wanton passion. The grass is still alive as it blazes in the sun. The chorus of our laughter floats gently in the Spring breeze. We are the definition of love and our hands are linked as we dance amongst the growing and the grown alike. We enjoy timeless sunsets on picturesque settings creating canvases waiting to be painted at each moment. We love.

Time works wonders and bonds grow firm. We resolve to walk quietly into the night together. Hands held tightly against the shadows we once faced alone. We pick each other up in the heat of the Summer, against the blazing sun and humanity’s punishment. We turn as one, in unison with one another’s needs. I am your need and you are mine. And like an oak tree we grow together.

The rain has come and we have weathered storms. We still touch… but sometimes our hands Fall like leaves from our tired limbs. The chatter of children running around our base keeps us united, we are still united with finger painted signs and chalk figures. But some nights are cold and the moon shines two shadows upon the ground.

It snows here in Denver. The Winter seems to be most of the year… at least lately. But even with the constant ice, it does melt with the strength of will. A will we share each morning and return to each night. The seasons form a timeless ring that hardens into a golden promise. They touch each time our hands unite with infused emotion. Regardless of what emotion that is the presence of feelings means that we still care.

Jason Cushman

-Opinionated Man



Birth Mom

Society tells me to value that which has never held value to me. That would be you the birth mom I never knew. It seems the story will end with two separate endings. Yours and the life you kept from me and my life… without you or my sister in it. I could leave this life without meeting you. At this point, at the age of 34, I have done well enough without ever seeing your face or needing the comfort of your presence. I do not remember your voice and have no desire to. You do not visit me in my dreams anymore, they are purely in English. I am glad you are now gone. The only time I ever see you is from the bottom of my cup as I swirl a few midnight tears around. Not tears over you, but instead tears for you. Tears you will never see and that you do not deserve to know exist. I still hate you.



Two Minutes About A Storm

Source: Two Minutes About A Storm Almost poetic. I liked this a lot and the imagery was nicely done. :) -OM

Note: Comments disabled here, please visit their blog.


Today is a new day and it deserves a new attitude. Maybe even a happy one.


vLog – Broken Hearts


Broken hearts, like broken jewels.

They line the path behind me.

Breaking apart, how beautiful they break.

Lying as they were supposed to be.

One last glance, at distant past.

Waving to memories gone.

Used memories, they never last.

Forgotten feelings I do not long.


Blogging Goals – 1,300,004


I have often written that I use blogging goals and milestones to push myself each day. Another mile marker in the distance to strive for… that is never a bad thing in my book. What is anything without goals, accomplishment, and striving for more? That is one of the greatest things about blogging to me. There is no overall progress bar in life, there are simply things we do, try to do, and keep trying to do. I live my life by that.

When I created this blog in 2013 I read a lot of blog articles on blogging. It seemed like a necessary thing to do at the time, but what I never realized till later on is how wrong most of those articles were. People love trendy sayings and I have taken pleasure in blasting most of those silly quotes. “Rome wasn’t built in one day” is often said about blogging and the goals we set for ourselves on social media. I absolutely hate this quote when referenced to a person’s goals or progress towards those goals. I will even say back “well it might have been if Koreans had lived there.”

Why do we do the things we love? Because we get some satisfaction out of them or else we wouldn’t do them. I gain a lot of satisfaction in watching my little corner of the blogosphere grow and it hasn’t been an easy road. 2 years later and I stand battered, but not broken. Having completely deleted the content of this blog twice, I can safely say that there is no formula for success. There is simply the willingness to keep your eye on the ball and to keep striving for that damn ball. Today I hit 1,300,004 views and I am happy about that fact. There was a time fairly recently when I thought 1,250,000 was going to be my last milestone.

I take pride in my view count because I gained it through legitimate hard work. There are shortcuts to anything and I could have easily used those shortcuts and tricks to reach my million views in a couple months. I would have lost 75% of my subscriber base though. Instead it took 2 years and a lot of effort to gain my first million and I received no help doing it. That is how it must be, how it should be, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I owe no one for my small successes on this website other than the people that take the time to read it. For that I truly say thank you. I try to show my appreciation in my own way.

-Opinionated Man


Excuse me while I scribble

Regardless why we blog we all have something to share. No two daily lives are the same and your routine actions and everyday views are probably special to someone out there. It is easy to get caught up in the idea that blogging is a frivolous pursuit that wannabe writers engage in. I have had those things said to me as well as “why are you wasting your time blogging?” You see to the non-blogger it doesn’t matter how many likes, subscribers, views, or great things are said about your writing. You are simply seen as doing something apart from them and that just isn’t right.

I have long held onto the idea that I am not on WordPress writing. I am scribbling in my corner trying to find a writer inside of me. That writer may not exist and the words of others don’t mean much to me. I have to believe it myself, as everyone should. That is why you must all excuse me while I scribble. While I write my heart and attempt to find a purpose for it all.

Bloggers can indeed be amateurs. I am definitely an amateur and have never been published by anyone else. I believe we are as important as we wish to be and that is why it doesn’t matter what you are every day. What are you today? If you want to be a writer then write. No amount of discouragement will ever stop my pen. Had I placed value in the opinions of others I would have buried my keyboard a long time ago. I love my keyboard, even the keys with the worn off letters.

I enjoy writing and I believe there may be a day when I will be “good” at it. Until that day I am perfectly content to scribble my soul away each night. Offering my humble writing to eyes that are gracious enough to read it. It is why I login each day and do what I do for my blog. It is the reason I call myself a blogger and not a writer.

Now excuse me while I scribble some more.


Why I Care About Likes and Follows

They mean everything to me! I die a little when I lose a subscriber and I live a little more when I gain a follower. Likes! I love likes! It means I am awesome when I get a “like” and it makes me want to be more awesome. What better motivation could someone ask for? I care about all those things because it means I am a good blogger. Sometimes I just stare at my screen until the numbers change. I then cheer… by myself… and I feel great doing it! Hate me all you want! I LOVE likes and follows! They mean the world to me!




Can I say what I wish to say, my back against the wind.

Can I write what should be written, a start I begin again.

How should I present my words with change of inner heart.

Pressing words, printing, press them, I need a place to start.

A changed name, unassuming me, a crow in the night.

Finding freedom, freedom at last, a crow takes final flight.



Tuesday at Ten { someone I admire is . . . . }

Opinionated Man:

I thought this was a touching tribute and a great writing prompt! Anyone looking for a writing prompt today? :) -OM
Note: Comments disabled here, please visit their blog.

Originally posted on Advocate for Invisible Illness!:

_________________________Directions Below_________________________

“Someone I admire is my mother.” Now unfortunately I need to rephrase that as “Someone I admired was my mother.” She is no longer of this world and I miss her very much. She taught me wisdom and caring for others.

I was in my early 20’s when I had my first 2 children and when the 2nd one was born my mom was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. If you don’t know, Parkinson’s Disease is a progressive disease, one that affected her body movements, not her mind. At the end it did take her mind as she developed dementia from it, but right up to the end she tried her best to keep up with her routine of helping people. She would help anyone who needed her. She was spiritual woman and also a medium.

I admired the way she handled herself as things got worse and dad…

View original 407 more words

Opinionated Man:

I have night terrors often and try to explain the difference to people between them and a nightmare. Most people don’t get it. I don’t think you can define the “fear” we feel while in them huh? It is hard to explain if someone hasn’t had one! I wish I could wake myself like you do… instead I simply stopped dreaming. With help. -OM
Note: Comments disabled here, please visit their blog.

Originally posted on :

Random post time!

Ever had a Night Terror Before? I have.

View original 783 more words

Day of 100

Opinionated Man:

100/100! Sounds like good numbers to me and reason to celebrate! Congrats! -OM
Note: Comments disabled here, please visit their blog.

Originally posted on The MomHood:

Well everyone. I hit a milestone on my blog. Actually two, big ones in the eyes of a new blogger.

View original 191 more words

I was reading your blog

I was reading your blog today as you read mine. Feeling like two ships in the night that just might finally meet at last. At the very least we seemed to exchange thoughts with one another… as I read your blog and you read mine. A connection felt even if not heard. Still we can’t help but draw confidence in the knowledge that someone is listening. Someone cares to read our blog and our words. What a great feeling it is to be aware of being noticed. I felt that way today while I was reading your blog and you were reading mine. I felt the connection that only bloggers feel.




We battle. Our forces lock on, as precise as any engineer, and our souls dance. Their tango is a deadly dance of shadow and light, as we move without motion. Darting, shifting, and turning we probe for weaknesses immediately. Are we such predators that weakness comforts us? Our mood eases, letting out tension as we sense someone that is not a threat. Far better than another predator, an intellectual equal, whose presence immediately sends our guard up. Stranger, know that I am watching you and if you dare to confront me your challenge shall be met.

We comfort each other, but we know our boundary. We groove in the same mood and commiserate in times of passion or pain. Emotional wall, you are my constant companion and never a burden. Were you to become a burden, I am no saint. I carry no one else’s boulder. Gladly will I share a meal or give a drink, but I do not carry the emotional weight of someone else’s consciousness. Friend, be a friend, and let us keep our dance in balance.


Beware, I can kill you and sleep soundly at night. I have no remorse, except in regards to myself or my own. You, I do not care for you. Walk swiftly across to the other side of the path, cross not my eyes, for to do so will place your own life in dire peril. I see the potential, this world is full of people auditioning for the role of adversary, and yet I care not about them unless they come into my world.


You and I dance to a song without words. Sometimes the dance is painful, love can hurt, but most of the time it is a dance we do without thought. It is under your caress and gentle touches that I know why I wake up in the morning. You move me to passion, without passion there is no love. Of course we most continue to stoke the fire, what love does not require the effort of rekindled interest, you are worth that effort. Others have slipped away, faded into the night their names are ink prints on my mind. And although those stains may stay for a time, their meaning and value diminish with each setting sun. There is only one lover here in my heart, it is you.

-Opinionated Man


WordPress Bloggers

One day when I grow up and I am famous I want to live the fabulous life of a blogger…

You know the blogger celebrities on here that always have a photo of themselves on a boat, plane, or spaceship going somewhere fun while we all work for a living. Why does my life suck so much? I hate you WordPress!




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