My Problem with consistency

does not necessarily stem from laziness.

1. Ink on my left shoulder blotted, blurred by movement of restless muscle, now only barely resembles the python Apo Whang-Od designed. I'm chosen to stop worrying and to let it age and defy my expectations. Maybe the ink will turn blue, bright-blue.
2. Since Sunday evening, my mother had been confined in the nearby hospital. It wasn't our first trip to the establishment but familiarity and fair warning didn't deter the inexhaustible paranoia of my fifty-five year-old mother whose steady complaints about a stubborn, stabbing pain in her abdomen she had mistaken for gas. In the emergency room, she said all doctors and nurses complied with her self-made assessment until she told them her father died from a burst appendix that had gone untreated and undiagnosed until, its singular, last, and fatal bid for attention ignored, it simply gave up and gave way. 
3. I always thought my maternal grandfather--whose enduring image in my imagination is of an old man, heavily tattooed, smoking a pipe, dressed in faded slacks, standing in the slow breaking dawn of a yellow summer day six decades ago with a pile of leaves to sweep, and armed only with the walis tinging his fearsome and silent wife pushed into his hands--somehow died at home, stabbed to death. I was wrong. I kept forgetting it was my maternal grandmother whose death had been violent beyond anything I've ever known in my life. 
4. Dearest brother one day I will write you a letter about what it mean to be selfish and how, yes, you were right. I am selfish. Are you happy I owned up to it? But what I mean is I am not terrified the way you are. I want you to shape your expectations, mold them into a manageable totem you can either worship or set afire.
5. Today was more productive than I had anticipated. 
6. I haven't written a word for Rear Window.

     

These are the stories in progress cluttering my desktop.

1. With the exception of A Letter to my Mother on Why I Refuse to Lie, these are all fiction. 
2. I hope I can finish drafting The Hand You Are Dealt, Doomsday, and Rear Window before May ends. 
3. Six should be revised and proofread well before the end of May.
4. I have no idea what happens in Doomsday (even though the story had been floating around in my mind since the better half of last year)
5. I am not a creative nonfiction writer. 
6. Numbers at the end of each title denote story versions instead of draft numbers.