Carlos Salinas's Blog, page 125
May 13, 2014
Love Quotes That Will Make You Rethink Love
I hope that these quotes make you think, or rethink, whatever you thought about love.
May 7, 2014
My Best Love Quotes Part IIf love didn't exist, what woul...
My Best Love Quotes Part I
If love didn't exist, what would I write about? :D
All from my page www.facebook.com/carlossalinasauthor
If love didn't exist, what would I write about? :D
All from my page www.facebook.com/carlossalinasauthor
April 27, 2014
April 26, 2014
On Writing
Everyone should write. I say everyone because there are no two people on this planet that feel the same about the exact same thing. It can be interpreted a thousand different ways by a thousand different people. Your view on any given subject is not exactly the same as any other person's. There has never been and will never be a person that thinks just like you do and the beauty of the written work is that people can still agree or disagree with you, even though you may have expressed it differently than they might have. Words are a weapon, a tool, a touch, a paint. They can create vivid images and stir emotions deep within us. The goal of the writer is to take the reader for a ride. That ride can go up, down, or both. A good writer will do so and leave the reader wanting more. The most moving and meaningful writings have already been penned and told, but to think, that it is just the beginning. New writers are emerging all the time. As the language changes, so will the stories and their characters; but the concepts of the human heart, mind, and soul have always existed and will always be present, even in the most concise works of literature. The writer is a magician; creating something from nothing. The most wondrous part of writing is that words are free. You don't need permission or money to write that letter, pen that poem, or verse that song- it's all at your fingertips. The noblest of trees have provided their very fibers so that writers may stir a sense of love, wonder, fear, joy, sadness, and knowledge in the reader. The mission of words is so important I felt compelled to compose a poem in its honor (titled "Warrior of Words'), a small gesture for such a big concept.
See you on page one,Carlos Salinas
See you on page one,Carlos Salinas
February 1, 2014
Short Story: A Case of Delusion
A Case of Delusion
I remember walking into the hospital as any other day for treatment of a patient that suffered from delusions. My daughter had come with me, since she was working on her doctorate for psychiatry. I thought it would be appropriate for her to visit along with me.I had been telling her about the unfortunate case of Mr. Fels, who thought himself to be a psychiatrist. He was in an incredible state of delusion and thought he had patients come see him when he was the patient. The receptionist shook her head at me as I walked in with my daughter by my side. She must’ve been new and not known who I was. Or it may have been my accent that took her by surprise.I didn’t have any time to waste; my patients needed my attention urgently. I excused myself from my daughter and met with my first patient who was waiting for me outside my office.“Good morning, doctor.”A sigh was let out. “Good morning, shall we get started?”
II
I’m not sure if my father was getting better. All my studies in psychiatry could not have prepared me for handling the delusions that he was suffering from. In fact, that is what I was doing my dissertation on: delusions. My father was a curious one. He thought himself a psychiatrist. He walked around as if he were a doctor at the hospital where he received treatment. He always spoke with an English accent when he treated his “patients” but not in ordinary conversations with “non-patients”.
I remember walking into the hospital as any other day for treatment of a patient that suffered from delusions. My daughter had come with me, since she was working on her doctorate for psychiatry. I thought it would be appropriate for her to visit along with me.I had been telling her about the unfortunate case of Mr. Fels, who thought himself to be a psychiatrist. He was in an incredible state of delusion and thought he had patients come see him when he was the patient. The receptionist shook her head at me as I walked in with my daughter by my side. She must’ve been new and not known who I was. Or it may have been my accent that took her by surprise.I didn’t have any time to waste; my patients needed my attention urgently. I excused myself from my daughter and met with my first patient who was waiting for me outside my office.“Good morning, doctor.”A sigh was let out. “Good morning, shall we get started?”
II
I’m not sure if my father was getting better. All my studies in psychiatry could not have prepared me for handling the delusions that he was suffering from. In fact, that is what I was doing my dissertation on: delusions. My father was a curious one. He thought himself a psychiatrist. He walked around as if he were a doctor at the hospital where he received treatment. He always spoke with an English accent when he treated his “patients” but not in ordinary conversations with “non-patients”.
