Tag Archive: hard

One, two and three- the other inmate counted- and I started to pump out push-ups like hell! The prison inmate had his hand balled into a fist under the lowest part of my chest.

My elbows bend and the inner pits of my arms, opposite of my elbows, were small angles, low, my arms against the ground.

I pushed my body off the ground, with my palms against the rough ground and this all happened in a small amount of time two push-ups, three pushups, consecutively , I pumped out my ups and downs, with the massive muscle mass I began to acquire while using my days for workouts mostly.

This was nothing, I thought with prideful thinking, as I still pumped out the pushups, I let my body fall onto his balled up fist –four down- I use the leverage of my palms to boost myself up again.

This happened so fast, but my bunk bed, inmate told me to not let myself fall too hard on his hand and to use every muscle in my body even more to create a harder work out for me.

“Try harder at the lifting up! Come on, I know you can do lots better at this. Keep pumping the pushups out at the rate you are doing. Seven down, seven up and eight down…”

He started to count the pushups like he thought I suddenly did not know how to count. I forced my voice over his volume and counted ten up, eleven down and so on.

I finally reach twenty-five and the other inmate removes his hand from underneath me as I use my hand to push myself up and sit on my legs. Afterwards I stretched the left leg from underneath me to the front of me and then the other leg to the front while I sit back on my butt.

The other orange suited man, who spotted me, was already on his knees but lifted one leg into standing position and put a hand down to lift up the other leg.

We usually joked with each other but this time he went too far and patted me on the cheek twice like I was some kind of slap around toy.

I waited for him to turn the other direction and one step with one foot, afterward the other step; his right foot took a consecutive step towards the prison bars that held us in.

Before I knew it, he lifted his hands and put every finger around the bars, each are a inch in diameter, and he tipped his head to the left slightly while starring into the blank, brick wall across the hallway.

I slowly put knees on the ground,- slowly one after the other and dropped my palms onto the ground and moved each foot and hand, one after the other limb and quietly sat behind, below and while he does not know it I push my balled up fist into his gonads to get him back for his petty slap that pissed me off so bad.

You guessed right he doubled over in pain and that was the last I heard from him the whole day and I did not get any more prison slaps for the next couple of days because he knew what could be coming for him if he did it again.

Signed out:

                        Robert Haze



On the Right Road Again!


Waiter! Check please! I then wait for the girl to get me my food check.

You, the reader, might have wondered how in the hell I have money to purchase this fine dining meal at the cheesecake factory.

Well if you have read any of my other posts, I was busy getting my drug problem under control. Well guess what? I have finally overcome that vicious cycle that was getting the best of me.

Oh and the best thing I got out of this is, I’m no longer homeless. It’s fantastic! I have two different things now that I’m so happy about. The second is, in fact, I live back at my old home. I live in Los Angeles, CA, and I intend to stay here for a long time.

After being in Arizona’s drug rehab I then decided to go back home and I found a very good drug rehab program here for free. Who would’ve thought that something like that being free in a place that is so expensive? Well to be honest if I never came back to where my true home is I would’ve never figured that one out. Not Ever.

You might ask, what are you doing for a job now days? Well I will put it plain and simple. I’m still working on the television show called “heartache.” I’m the happiest man in the world because the producer of the show thought he would give me a second chance. The reason behind this is, he thought my ratings would go higher than ever because of me being homeless. Guess what? My ratings skyrocket to the top of the Television chart.

I guess I could say I’m very blessed to be in the spot that I’m in now. Who would like to have their own show and get paid the big bucks? This guy does, and I’m sure there are tons of you out there, that would too.

To get one’s life back on the right road should be everyone’s goal. I know it was an awesome goal for me to achieve, and I know it can be good for you to achieve it too. If you want to post a goal down in the comments section and tell me, what is the goal you are trying to achieve now in your life, I would be more than happy to hear what your road changing goal is.

Signing out:                                                  Robert

It takes a lot to be a homeless person. But first of all, I would like to say that this is not such a bad idea. The reason I say this is, to beg on the streets, actually earns you a quite good income. What do I mean by good income? Well it goes something like this. People give more to homeless people, than what an average Joe Blue or white collar citizen thinks the homeless person would earn.

 I moved from LA to Arizona like I mentioned before in my last blog entry. This happened when I became homeless. But then I started to think about my Television show Called “Heartache.” As I thought of this show that was making me so much money, I thought about moving back to my true home which is where I’m located now. I’m now in Los Angeles. City of angels.

One would think I’m crazy, but, it felt good to be a celebrity and have all the riches I want.

The deal is when two more days pass my Television show is going to do a documentary on how homeless people get by. This will hopefully get my foot back in the door of the entertainment industry, after being off it for so long due to my drugs. I’m so excited to do this and get the show on the road.

(Two and a half days later.)

Camera Crew: “Someone get this guy some water! It is hot out today; we don’t want this guy passing out while we’re filming. Hurry up!” The one big dude yelled this with intensity and in a big rush to get this segment of the show shot as soon as they could.

Me: I started to yell at one crew member as he did not stop putting make-up on me. “Would you get on with what else you have to do!” I felt power flow through my veins, as I roared in his presence.

The crew member started to pick up speed on his task, but I slapped his hand back to make sure he knew my hint to let him know I didn’t want to be played with anymore. But when I slapped his hand away, the make-up artist, or the annoying crew member, looked at me and he moved his jaw back and forth in his circular repeated fashion and looked deep into my eyes with his squinted eyes. He picked up his baggage off the ground full of dirt. He then proceeds to spit a glob of guck.

Production leader: “Everyone get into your places. Action!” He had done this repeatedly about every half hour of filming me. As I take people’s money from on the highway.

But the thing that sucks about this first episode, is, I need drug money now. The Production leader said I would not be receiving any money for this episode, since he is starting me all over. My drug problem never went away even after drug rehab in Arizona.

Signing Out:                                                   ROBERT                                                       

When I lived in my spacious six bedroom house, I lived the life. With the drug problem I have now, it has forced me into staying in the homeless shelter. Drugs are bad for you kids. All they will do for you is leave you  on a string, then one day it will cut you off from what you are doing.

I guess you might be asking what I’m doing to keep busy at the homeless shelter. It is as simple as this. I’m taking my time, which I have a lot of, and searching through garbage cans all day. Yes it is a lot of hard work that requires a lot of labor.

I’m still trying to get back into the drug rehab program, but it is hard to get in without any money, or at least not enough money.  Also besides all of this, on a side note, my television show is to come to shoot some film with me being homeless and all.

I guess this is okay with me as long as I can get back into a home, preferably rehab. Rehab is the heart of what needs to happen. I’m so hard core into drugs right now, I will buy drugs over food with my money.

Not to mention, I have moved to Arizona, so I don’t get so cold at night, because I ‘m on the streets. This will hopefully help.

Arizona gets so hot in the summer. I have been here for a month now, and the shade is barely helping me with my dehydration. Yes I’m always getting very dehydrated, mostly during the dreaded day. But the good thing about being here is I don’t need to worry about the night being so cold.

The hitch hike to Arizona was kind of scary. I was scared that some nut head could have killed me, but luckily didn’t.

This is how you live when you are homeless. I hope that all of you have learned how bad drugs are, and how dreaded your life becomes after you turn to drugs for the thrill in your life or whatever you do it for.  DON’T DO DRUGS!

Signing Out:                                               Robert

The last thing I want to do; is worry about how I’m going to pay my next bill. I still have drug problems, and even though this Television show is bringing revenue in like crazy, I’m spending more than I bring in.

The other day, I received a notice from the bank telling me, if I don’t pay the bills, I will lose my house. Yes. My house is going to be ripped from underneath me and I will be left for dead.

What I mean by being left for dead is; I will have to live out on the barren streets. I say barren because there are not many poor people in my neighborhood. I guess I will get the homeless shelter all to myself.

 It makes me feel so sad inside, because I will be one of the only poor persons in my city.

(Sigh) This is not what is supposed to happen. I will not let this go down in vain.

My drug problem is going to be the death of me. Not literally, but it is something that I will have to carry the burden of. I’ve tried to get help, but every time I come out from beneath the roof of the drug rehab, I relapse hard. This happens when I start to party.

The partying in my life has to stop. Even though my bros before hoes(Homies), egg me on to party, I must not give in to peer pressure.

But to say that I will not give in to peer pressure is more hard done than said.

Sometimes I always wondered what people mean when they would say, “It’s Harder done than said.” But now I get what they were trying to say. The message means this. Anything hard that one does, that same person,” Which is me at the moment” needs to take a step back and listen to what one self is saying.

I need to step back, and study what it means to stop. I don’t think I have a good enough grasp of what I need to do to stop. If I don’t know what it means to stop, then I will determine my own fate.

Signing out:                                                          Robert

Drugs Are Always Bad

Sorry to be so long and not write anything for about 13 days. Didn’t realize how fast time flies by. But I hope you enjoy another fictional story.



The number one topic that spins around my head, today, is my rehab from drugs. Ever since I have obtained the TV show called “Heartache”. Some of you know what this TV show is. The Show which is broadcasts every Tuesday night, and is about my life and all the problems I encounter.

One might wonder what this has to do with my drug problem. Well as simple as it is, I have had fame and fortune now for two months and I have felt this problem ache deep within me.  I have so much money to spend.

The luxurious items that I buy, besides the drugs, is not enough to satisfy my spending hunger. I have this painful connection now, to the drugs, that my drug buddy has hooked me up with. This drug that I partake of more than three times a day, is very expensive and it goes by the name of crack cocaine. It is abused by many other people and has a long history. But that history will not be a part of my everyday Life. I will get this under control.

The other day I had lost my stash, and I went totally crazy and started throwing all my house appliances around looking for that stash, which did not go far. I was so frantic that I threw plates out of my cupboard and they broke all over the floor. But that did not deter me any further. I search for an hour, and literally start pulling hairs off my head. I even went to the extremes of screaming into my pillow of my couch. But then it did not even stop there. I worry even more and being addicted I become irrational and start ripping up my carpet. I looked for answers ripping up my brand new carpet, and tear it to shreds.

But now as I’m writing you this I feel as I am doing the right thing and taking this drug rehab to make myself rational again. Drugs are bad for you no matter what one would say; if that person was being oppositional. If one out there knows what I am talking about, I’m sure whoever is out there can relate. I will get over this and I will turn my weaknesses into strengths. I feel that this is the only way out of this type of thing.

Signing Out:                                     ROBERT

Darkness Falls Within

The only way to get home the fast way is walk down a dark and dreary alley. But this time I will need something to defend me just in case, one day I get jumped. But I start walking fast and I realize every night that there is something feels like it is creeping in the dark and I wait for something to happen every time I walk down this dark alley. A rat dashes across the pieces of trash, and it makes me jump against the wall.

But today is the day. WAM! I start to feel the thoughts of my conscience fade away. I respond by running. I run in a direction, the direction was not the way I intended to go. I run into the damp brick wall of a building. I hit the building hard, and there is a huge thud. When I bounce back onto to the ground, my butt hit the concrete and it hurt even more than the hit of the perpetrator.

I look up at a forty-five degree angle and see a glimpse of my attacker. I have the outline of his body figured out but I don’t know who the person is yet.

WHAM! I feel something like a heavy object hit the side of my skull.

The attacker speaks while he wraps a cloth around my mouth. No!

“Joshua?” I sound bewildered and my thoughts were still distorted. “Nope guess again. But what does a slut like you want to know?” He asked me with mad tone in his voice.

He starts to tie my hands up, and when my hands are tied up he throws me over his shoulder. He begins to run like a robber who has his share of stolen money. Then I feel the thrust of his hands, he throws me into a trunk. He shuts the trunk it makes a clunk sound.

What will I do now that I am trapped inside a stranger’s car? I jog threw my memories and I remember to kick out the light in the back of the car.

The car speeds into the shadow of the night and he is doing something that is completely forbidden when it comes to the law. But I had a plan to get out of this car as soon as possible. I feel nothing but different parts of the trunk but then suddenly I feel the soft spot.

I kick and kick again. Even after I furiously kicked, nothing budges until both feet are used. Then I feel my feet begin to turn cold.

After minutes my feet start to freeze. I wait and I know; I had my feet outside the car.  But after minutes of my feet out the backlights of the car, the unknown kidnapper steps on the brakes. I hear him get out of the car, and then I hear a siren. The police had rescued me with a crowbar and also arrest the criminal.

I soon figure out it is a lonely bum who tries to hold me hostage. He says when he drives me out of city limits he was going to kill me.

This is one of the scariest moments of my life. From then on I will learn some form of defense techniques. I can defend myself from being harmed like that again.

We Will Meet Again

Hi for those who do not already know me, I am Robert, a fictional character. Over the small amount of time, which has been about a couple of months now, I have gained a television show. You might ask why I gained such a thing.

But the reasons were simple. You see Problems, in my life, never end.  I have had one of the worst lives in the world. No, this is not an exaggeration. In fact my grandpa died about two days ago.

I went to the funeral today, so I put on the finest clothes that I have for this sad occasion. I mean, I feel so sad that a close friend has died.

But I know there are some of you out there that can relate to me. Some of you readers might be thinking about the last funeral that you had to attend because a close family member or friend has died. If not, it is the worst feeling in the world.

At the funeral, some of my relatives approached me with much care. They shared their condolences with me and told me how sorry they were, that such a thing would happen in our family. Nothing like this has ever happened, but I now feel the pain of all those people out there that have had the same thing happen to other people.

I even had some relatives that I did not know, who shared me their life story and told me how they used to know my grandpa and how special he was. This situation led to them giving me a long remorseful hug and it dug deep into my emotions and made me bawl my eyes out. The funeral was a big emotional party. It had been a party to celebrate the dead.

Death feels so final, because of the fact that we will not see those who have passed until we all meet again. But on the other side it is also a good thing, to feel these emotions, because it is what keeps us knowing we still are alive and well. I feel for those who have lost a loved one, because I had the same thing happen to me and it was the worst thing that has ever happened to me even after all these scenes on my blog that I have had.

In Memory of my Grandpa, Greg Maughan

This is Robert Signing Out                              End of Scene twelve

I paid the driver’s license and speeding fines and had lots of issues The first thing that stood in my way to pay that strenuous fine, was the door on the outside of the triangle shaped court.

I tried time and time again to open the door, but it just was not opening. Then finally with my motivation of frustration I kicked the door, and thought that would make it open, but kicking it only made things worse.

The alarm which sat on the other side of the door, had detected the kick. When the alarm started ringing, my hands started rubbing my hair back and forth trying to figure what to do next. I felt I was to pay the price for what I the action I just committed. It was not my intention to set it off.

As someone opens the door, there begins to be an old musty smell of a building that could be decades old.

“Sir, how did you get this to happen?” He is referring to that door which got on my nerves. “Come In here.” These were his next choice of words.

I started to fidget my fingers rapidly, twiddling them in between each other.

We then came into a room filled with paper work, which was a gross amount. It had papers stacked to and fro. The mess is just the start of what this place is. People were not friendly; in fact, I even heard vulgar words from behind the thin walls of glass, in people’s offices.

I thought to myself in a judgmental way. “I am so glad I do not work in a place like this. My place at work we treat each other with kindness and respect.”

Stopping at a desk starts to make my body shiver endlessly and teeth start tattering, because of the fear I have with being in court.

As we continued and made our way across the creaky and old floor, we traveled about fifty long and awful smelly inches. As I am led to the counter to pay off the fines, I felt I had the urge to puke, and asked the counter attendant if he had a trash can.

He gives me a trash can and I wait for a couple of minutes until I say that all signs of nausea were clear.

I sort of felt shaky when I came up to the counter to pay my fines, because it felt like a punishment.

But after I talked to the desk attendant, she is nice to me and helped me every step of the way.

Even though every problem in my book arose, I fought back and did not let my fears get the best of me.



I am on my way home and driving with the camera crew all seated in the back of my car when I threw a piece of garbage out the window.  Maybe I should have rethought throwing a piece of five hundred dollar trash out the window before it caught up to me.

As I am driving down the street and I am also over the speed limit. Also in addition I did not have my license with me. I just thought to myself “wow if today I were to get a ticket I would be in big trouble.”

I thought this the whole time and I worried that something is to become wrong because I had that inner voice telling me that something is to become wrong.

As I passed the Idaho sign that read, Welcome to Idaho. I see a police officer in his car starts to get my attention with his lights and his loud high pitched sound. As I did not let the thought of a police officer pulling me over register in my head I began feeling it as I pulled over and the cop walks over to my car.

Camera man in the back says to act as good as possible and this could make you go far.

But as he says that I start feeling the sweat on the top of my hands and it is coming strong now. Then right as the officer knocks on my window my eye starts twitching rapidly.

I saw by the looks of his outfit that he could be a state police officer because he is wearing a weird color of uniform and a big perfect circled hat. Also His denims were not the of his over top shirt instead of being dark blue they had lightish brown collars with 2 humungous black stripes down both the sides of his pants.

“Yes Officer, may I help with your request?” I wanted to smack myself a hundred times and then a hundred times over again.

“It seems that down this long stretched road about a mile back I saw a piece of trash fly out your window, and it hit my window.” He sounded disgusted now.

“I am sorry officer I will make sure it does not happen again. I am late for an appointment with my psychiatrist.” I tried to appeal.

“I am afraid I will have to get you a ticket son.” He bluntly says this and I detected remorse in his voice.

I tried not to cry but I said to him, “ Whatever needs to be done officer.”

I wait for a long time and I felt my blood pressure rise as every worthless minute goes by. My attention drifts away then I hear another knock on my window. I roll my window down.

“Hears a ticket for litter and hears a ticket for speeding. They will both cost you about three hundred make sure you show up to court on this date.” He pointed to a date which I have something important on those days.

After the cop retreated back into his car, I slowly let the gas out of the car and signaled left into the lane.

I learned my lesson there on, always throw your trash away not out the window. But the camera man did get some great footage.

I will be posting later on so come and stop by for some more for Robert and his Hefty Journie of his life.