Albert Icestein-Update

Sounds from the ticking clock could be heard faintly in the background. Each tick suggested the obvious that time was not standing still. The intensity to accomplish something flowed like unsettling anxiety that causes difficulty with falling asleep at night. The more you focus on sleep, the more you keep looking at the clock. You say that if you get to sleep now, you’ll get at least four hours of shut-eye before waking up for work in the morning. Another two hours pass when you look at the clock again, and sleep never happens. No matter what the issue is, one thing for sure is that time is a motivator.

The past is also a period that we all can learn from to better ourselves. More than likely, you might’ve felt pressed for time to get things done and pressured yourself to beat the clock. You might’ve even used it wisely to learn new things.

Writing blog posts has been quiet because I have been learning new things about writing and self-publishing. So far, I’ve participated in online courses like Accounting Fundamentals I and II, Keys To Effective Editing, Introduction to InDesign CC, and Write and Publish Your Non-Fiction Book. There will be a few more courses that I will study to build my skills and hopefully help others succeed with their writing and publishing goals.
Over the past years, writing and self-publishing have been subjects I’ve learned about since 2014, mainly through how-to videos on youtube. After learning all I could from such tutorials, I managed to write and self-publish my first book in 2020. My genre of choice is non-fiction, self-transformation, and family relationships. The first book published in 2020 did not do so well. There wasn’t any personal storytelling in it, and I had no idea how to market my book. Since sales weren’t that good, I discontinued the book even though I did sell a few here and there.

The morning sun illuminated the living room and suggested that it would be a great day. Not only did the clock’s ticking sound fill the room, but the humming sound of the running air conditioner also occupied the space. In that relaxed stillness, important decisions can happen with clarity. With the laptop open and your cursor hovering over the delete button, you click on it with ease and satisfaction. Once you click that button, you gain confidence that a new beginning is about to happen.

It was an incredible feeling to discontinue my book and start over. After I hit that delete button, I decided it was time for a personal update. The update included taking some courses as I reflected on my writing style. The truth was that when I first wrote my book, I was afraid to share personal stories. Plus, I sacrificed my artistic talent in storytelling. Yes, non-fiction authors must be able to craft their writing talent through storytelling. Unfortunately, I left that out of the first book because I tried too hard to make it sound like a term paper for college. In my younger years, I wrote in storytelling form while in college. So, why did I try too hard to make my first book sound like a term paper? Unless you’re a college teacher, you might’ve been impressed with it, but since college teachers were not my target audience, it wouldn’t appeal to the ideal reader I was writing for in my genre. I’m glad I discontinued my first book.

I am writing a book that will be part of an upcoming series. These books will focus on self-transformation after dealing with complex family issues that lead to disconnection and division. Emphasis will be on moving forward with your life after experiencing disconnection or when others choose not to communicate with you anymore. The series will motivate you to see yourself in a different and positive light. These books will cause you to laugh, cry and captivate you to the very end. I promise to share personal experiences with creative storytelling that you will enjoy and be delighted to read.

What did you update in your life recently that you started over? How has time played a part in your personal update? Please leave a comment because I enjoy learning about you and your journey.


Getting Personal

It’s been a while since I created a blog post. I’ve been quiet lately and recently started revising my book, “Leaving Loneliness Behind,” which I self-published in 2020. When I first published my book, I titled it Overcoming the Spirit of Suicide and later changed the title to what it is currently. I put a lot of time into it back then, but I must admit I held back. I did not write my personal stories to help readers gain more insight into what I was trying to get across in my book.

So much happened in my life, especially since my family had abandoned me, that it brought me to the brink of disparity. My book does have scriptural references, but the intent of “Leaving Loneliness Behind” isn’t written to persuade anyone to convert but instead to share insight regarding my experiences. I hold the belief that everyone has the right to believe or not to believe in anything they wish. Plus, I ask any prospective reader to consider that even though I had painful past experiences, I chose to express myself through written expression instead of physically acting them out. I ask possible readers to give my book a chance since I intend to encourage something positive instead of something destructive.

Within a couple of months, possibly three, I will be relaunching my book, and this time, it will be full of personal experiences and much more thought-provoking. I will discuss the issues of child abuse I endured, how I reacted and how I treated my family while growing up. I will also describe and share my experiences with falsely being accused of domestic violence and dealing with parental alienation. Also, I’ll write about my frustration about how a church that my brother and mother attend encourages separation instead of teaching the love of Christ by prioritizing their church doctrine over relationships. Honestly, I hope I am wrong regarding such a thing about a church, but we shall see. Even when I tried calling adult services because I thought my mother might be experiencing some abuse by my brother, I felt stonewalled by them too.

“Leaving Loneliness Behind” is a life-long journey, and before my book even became a thought and brought into existence, I ran away from home in 2010 and tried to start over somewhere else. When I ran away and started over, I became a small church member at that point in my life. Despite being baptized and accepting Christ as my savior, I still ate for comfort, abused alcohol, smoked cigarettes, and toward the end, I even abused drugs like marijuana. When I could no longer hide from my pain, I broke down and threatened self-harm and then spent 12 days in the hospital.

In my journey with loneliness, I’ve been slowly getting myself back together and recently earned two certificates in the Fundamentals of Accounting I and II. I am feeling much more optimistic, and things in my life are getting better!! This coming week of July 2022, I will be taking an editor’s course to sharpen my skills and help other writers in their journey. Plus, I will learn some other lessons that will help me build an online business since I would like to have my own small publishing company.

Please follow my blog and help me stay encouraged; your comments and suggestions will help me greatly in my journey, which I lovingly share with you, the reader.



The Dream

What wakes a man up from sleep at three in the morning to write a blog post? Was it a dream about him trying to reunite with his family that had abandoned him and condemned him to loneliness? What did he say in his dream that woke him up so early in the morning that he had to grab his laptop to create this post?

Usually during this time in December as the Christmas holiday approaches I’m haunted by the fact that my family had abandoned me. I try not to let it get me down although it does bother me and makes me quite sad. I even struggled with myself to write this entry as I feel conflicted with thoughts that many may not even care and that no one will bother to read it. Either way I’m fine.

With the recent tornado of December 2021 many people have lost their lives. Homes and businesses were destroyed and Covid-19 has claimed almost 800,000 lives. My dream that woke me up at three this morning was about my family issues but when I woke up the thought of death and destruction caused by the recent tornado and all the death caused by Covid-19 was on my mind and in my heart. The dream and the issues are connected and they are connected by one thing. Anyone that reads this will think automatically that the connection is hope. Then my question is what is hope and why does it exist?

Hope exists in the middle of chaos and grief and it’s a doorway for love. A doorway for unconditional love that is seriously forgiving. A kind of love that doesn’t expect anything in return nor expect anyone to change. It’s like a nurse in the intensive care unit of the hospital that is overwhelmed and overworked by covid patients. The nurse will still hold each patient’s hand while they take their last breath so they won’t feel alone as they pass. Such nurses demonstrate unconditional love even to patients that refuse to wear a mask or get vaccinated.

Unconditional love gives people hope in the middle of chaos. Strangers from all over the United States will travel to the areas that were destroyed by the tornado. These strangers filled with unconditional love look past skin color, gender, politics, and even religion. Unconditional love looks past everything negative and just sees the beauty in people.

In my dream I was trying to reach out to my mother and brother who haven’t talked to me in real life since 2014. I dreamt that I was surrounded by them and the pastor of their church whom I never met in real life. I asked my brother how many times did Jesus say to forgive someone and he answered seventy times seven. Then I said that’s true and then added that every time you forgive someone it gives the person you forgive a new clean slate every time. In the dream he walked away and my mother walked away too. I fell to my knees crying and then landed on my back. It hurt me that my mother and brother seem not to know about unconditional love. Then in the dream my mother and brother came back and he said that he forgave me. I tried to get up and their pastor helped me back to my feet. It was hope that woke me up at three this morning.


The Candy Dish

Holidays should be a memorable and loving experience for families, friends and for the everyday people that pass by each day that are rarely greeted anymore with a kind nod and smile. There should always be a beginning, middle and an end to every holiday especially a holiday like Christmas. Lately, it seems that Christmas is rushed and the focus tends to be more on buying gifts because for some reason that equates to love. Will the latest tech gadget under the Christmas tree make a long lasting memorable experience that will be talked about for generations to come? What will connect others to the warm holiday memories?

When I was a young boy I noticed that my mother loved the holidays especially when we would have special visitors like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. She would clean the house from top to bottom encouraging my father to help her. She told my brother and I that Santa Claus wouldn’t be happy nor leave any gifts under the tree if our place wasn’t cleaned. My poor father took the brunt of those cleanings especially one year when my mother convinced him to clean our carpets with some kind of carpet cleaner and a scrub brush. Dear old dad was on his hands and knees coughing and scrubbing. The coughing might had been due to some allergen in the carpet cleaner not because the place was dirty nor filthy but the place had to be cleaned for Santa. Sometimes I wondered why my mother never made such a fuss for the tooth fairy then I realized the tooth fairy doesn’t have a holiday like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

After all the cleaning and coughing was completed, my parents went upstairs to their bedroom closet to get the boxes of holiday decorations, the artificial Christmas tree, and the box of blinking lights. When they placed all the boxes on the floor in the living room my brother and I were advantageous to help. We grabbed various Christmas decals from one box and leapt on and off furniture with joy as we hung them up around the living room!! My Father concentrated on setting up the tree while my mother sat in her chair with the strands of blinking lights. Sometimes they were tangled in the little box that she kept them in but she patiently unraveled them before plugging them in to see if they worked. Once the lights were plugged in she sat there and waited to see if they started blinking. If one of the blinker lights didn’t blink she grabbed another one from the box and replaced it. Dad took his time with the tree because he usually confused himself with where the branches were to be placed on its pole. Sure the ends of the branches were colored coded to match the pole of the tree but some branches didn’t have color and some spots of the tree didn’t have the right colors altogether.

While everyone seemed occupied with getting things ready for Inspector Santa my eyes concentrated on a small plastic white bowl that sat on top of a small tv tray stand by my father’s chair. Usually the little white bowl had snacks or treats in it and my father wasn’t one to eat such things all in one sitting. Since it was the Christmas season the small plastic white bowl contained what would be now referred to as, “Old fashioned Christmas candy.” I would nonchalantly sit in my father’s chair and tried my best to sneak a piece of candy from my father’s candy dish. As my hand was over the candy dish my mother would say, “I’m watching you!” I pulled my hand back quickly and pretended that I wasn’t doing anything as my father turned to look at me. When his attention returned back to the Christmas tree I waited to be certain that no one was looking. Again I stretched my hand over the candy dish to try to get a piece of candy. My father then looked over his shoulder at me as I quickly dropped my hand on the arm of the chair and pretended once more that I wasn’t up to anything.

To me those treats in the candy dish were and still are my favorite holiday candies of all time. Some were filled and others weren’t and the thing I remember best is that after eating them I had candy stuck in my teeth. It was fun digging candy from my teeth and my fingers were sticky because of it. Sometimes my father had ribbon candy in his candy dish too. Ribbon candy definitely made my fingers sticky and that got stuck in my teeth as well. Those moments are what I cherish most about Christmas and I enjoy sharing such fond and loving memories with you the reader. What is your most favorite loving memory of Christmas? Please comment below. Remember, you are loved and appreciated!!!


Cut Off By Those Who Love

From the murder of George Floyd to the acquittal of Kyle Rittenhouse and to the worldwide protests regarding masks and vaccinations it’s definitely apparent that people of the world are dangerously divided. The reason is that people want to be right! Some people would rather kill others than to be wrong. Murdering others isn’t limited to shooting others with assault rifles or pressing ones knee  into someone’s throat then claiming self-defense or killing others by refusing to wear masks or foregoing vaccinations in the face of being and having rights! Is protecting one’s rights and the need to be right now an act of self-defense?
The whole world is currently distracted and stirred by so much confusion and are driven by the necessity to be right and to protect their rights that other people’s lives no longer matter to them. They don’t even care about the lives of their own family. One don’t need an assault weapon to kill someone they love because to them love is their lethal weapon. Since love is more powerful than any made man weapon it can either create life or destroy it. For the most part it looks like weaponizing love in the form of abuse is the foundation that so many wish to protect because the believe they’re right. 
How can love be used as a weapon to murder family and friends? The tactic is simple, “I’ll love you when you’re good and I won’t love you when you’re bad.” In other words those that suffer from abuse often find themselves being alienated and isolated by their family. When people might face abandonment with the possibility of being cut off by those who love them, they will feel judged and condemned. Their loved ones will look past their poor attitudes and harmful behaviors that contributed to their conflicts. They will also believe that they haven’t done anything wrong. Abandonment can cause so much pain that it could lead someone to lose their will to live. They could possibly shut down and stop trying to lead a healthy productive life or they could hurt themselves by ending it altogether. Abandonment is cutting someone off from receiving love. Denying love is how love becomes a lethal weapon. Abandonment is an outward expression that demonstrates that one does not care if their loved one lives or dies. Abandonment also indicates the message that, “I’m right and you’re wrong.” 
In my book, “Leaving Loneliness Behind: The Essential Guide That Encourages You That Your Life Is Not a Mistake. Find Your Destiny and Purpose By Overcoming The Suicide Spirit“, I take abandonment deeper by sharing that whatever is true on the inside is also true on the outside and vice versa. It is a reflection of what is happening in a person’s life. This idea also connects to the the need to be right and killing others to protect that right while hiding behind the claim that it’s self-defense. So in other words how people hurt others in the streets it’s also how they hurt each other at home. What’s true on the inside is true on the outside.
People don’t love each other. After Kyle Rittenhouse was acquitted instead of showing remorse that he killed two people all he said was “The jury reached the correct verdict. Self-defense is not illegal. And I believe they came to the correct verdict and I’m glad that everything went well….” 

How To Search For Albert Icestein

The funny thing about my name is that when you try to google my name Albert Icestein with no surprise, the infamous Albert Einstein, the greatest genius and most notable equation E=MC2, dominates the search engine. Einstein, whom I respectfully take an astounding and astronomical backseat to in any search engine because of his brilliance and fame to which I could never hold a candle to or ever think I am intelligent as he is in comparison, is duly noted. I could never outshine such a magnificent mind, nor would I attempt to.

In my younger years, I immensely enjoyed gangsta rap music from the late 80s and 90s. As a young amateur rap lyricist, I tried to find the right stage name to build my rap persona because my dream was to be a well-noted rap artist with a meaningful name. In 2014, I wanted to come up with a pen name as an author, so I could suggest some creative intelligence and stand out from others as a writer. I hoped to make my name mean something without looking like a comedic parody of Albert Einstein.

Even before 2014, but in early 2000, I asked my ex-girlfriend, when we were together, what would you get if you crossed gangsta rapper and actor Ice T with Albert Einstein. No offense to anyone, but her reply was, “One pissed-off genius.” That wasn’t what I was hoping for because, in my mind, I was thinking of Albert Icestein.

Over the years, I hadn’t thought much more of that name until later, when I started learning what I needed about self-publishing because I wanted to become an author. When I googled the name for business purposes, I discovered that no one was using Albert Icestein as a business entity. So, the best thing to do was to start using it so I wouldn’t lose it and could build an online presence through my website and social media platforms.

Searching for my name now is difficult because Albert Einstein takes precedent over my name, which I’m okay with, plus I have no choice. I discovered, however, that if one were to google my name but did not put a space between the two words, then magic happens. For example, I tend to dominate the search pages. Instead of typing in Albert Icestein, try typing in alberticestein, and ta-da.

Suggesting how to search for me on the internet was just a creative tidbit or fun fact about me that I wanted to share with you, the reader. Thanks for reading!!

Sharing Love

Photo by Pro Church Media on Unsplash

Social media seems to be a platform that generates responses by provoking anger. If someone can’t strike the right cord that prompts such an emotion then the social media algorithm alienates and isolates a user to the point that others will not see their posts. This can be frustrating to many users including myself. Within the last several months I’ve decided to use social media less and the reason was that I started to create posts with videos that sounded angry. It seemed that I was hangry for attention because I wrote a book and I tried to promote it on my social media accounts and pages but didn’t receive much interaction. We all can be angry about anything and some can be angry about everything and its okay to be angry some times but we shouldn’t live there. Most of the time I don’t like being angry especially since I grew up having a problem with my temper. Since I overcame that in my life I decided that social media is not for me and neither is all the anger and stress that seems to live on such platforms. I rather share what’s really in my heart with you, the reader, and I promise that this post will not express any anger but instead through this post I will share love.

As a young boy on thanksgiving morning my older brother and I helped our mother with preparing the holiday dinner. My task mainly consisted of popping bread in our two slice toaster to make toast for homemade stuffing. Sometimes it seemed like a long tedious task because I would have to toast two loaves of bread. After the toast would cool I would have to break and crumble the slices and throw them in a big large pot. My brother helped my mother with the cleaning and lifting of the turkey. Once that was prepped he would help put the turkey in the oven. Whenever my mother would want to baste the turkey she called on him to help her get it out of the oven so she could baste it and then he’d put it back in for her.

The innards of the turkey boiled in water on top of the stove while my mother and I peeled and chopped the potatoes which I would sometimes rinse them for her and put them on the stove. On my way back to the kitchen table I grabbed a couple of onions from the fridge so we could dice them for the homemade stuffing. Once the innards were cooked my mother put them on a plate to let them cool a while. Afterward she would chop and dice the innards and put them in the pot with the crumbled toast and onions. Then my mother would pour the stock from the pot into the mix and my job was to stir it as she did. As I stirred she seasoned it with sage to give it the best flavor. Once that was prepped I could go into the living room and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade.

There was one year when I was eighteen and at that age we didn’t have much. Honestly, we hardly had any food for the thanksgiving holiday. Three days before thanksgiving that particular year someone knocked on our door. We didn’t expect anyone so my brother and mother jumped up to see who it was. When they opened the door I heard a man say, ” Here’s a turkey dinner for you guys with all the trimmings!” When I heard that I jumped off the couch to see who it was that had blessed us but unfortunately I wasn’t fast enough. Thirty-eight years later I still don’t know who it was. My mother placed the box on the kitchen table and started unpacking it. The first thing she pulled out was the turkey. It was a fairly good size and plenty for three people. Then she pulled out a five pound bag of potatoes, a couple of boxes of stuffing mix, a big can of jellied cranberry sauce, a big jar of gravy. There was a couple loaves of bread a jar of peanut butter and a frozen apple pie. When everything was on the table the three of us looked at it all and started to cry. I still cry when I share this story. Everything that I thought I knew about people and the world at that time of my life instantly changed. When I was eighteen I believed people didn’t care about poor folks like my family and I. I believed that right up until the mystery person showed up knocked on our door and shared some love with my family and I.

Despite having anger issues as a young person I always did have a sensitive and tender side. Even as a little boy I had a hard time saving change in my piggy bank when it came to the holidays. I’d take from my bank and tossed what little change I had into the Salvation Army kettle when we went to the store. It may have not been much but to me in my heart it felt like a million dollars. In giving what little I had as a little boy made me feel like the richest kid on earth. My parents never said anything when I donated and shared my change. Anytime after the holidays, especially during the summer, I would run with what little change that I had to the candy store to buy myself some gum or chocolate bars. My parents told me then that I didn’t know how to save money. Thinking back on it now I would agree because if I would’ve saved that change instead of buying candy then I would’ve had more to give during the holidays but I didn’t realize it then. I would’ve felt like a kazillionaire!!

This is not to sound prideful. I still believe that I’m a kazillionaire by sharing love even in this post. The stories I share are stories of love. Some posts that reflect my opinions are written from love because love is an intangible kind of tangible that can be demonstrated in numerous ways. That’s why social media isn’t for me any more because I’m not gonna play the anger algorithm card just to get attention. Sure I’ll post my blogs to my social media pages but whether others engage with my posts or not I’m no longer worried about that. Here on my blog I can just be myself. One good thing about myself is that I enjoy hearing about stories from you the reader. Please share love with me about your most memorable thanksgiving. What was thanksgiving like for you when you were a child? Were there any dishes you enjoyed making with your family? I would love to read about it in the comments below!!! Thanks for reading this post!! You are loved and appreciated!!!

Love is an intangible kind of tangible that can be demonstrated in numerous ways

Albert Icestein