Caleb Jacobo My Thoughts and Creative Writing

AuthorCaleb Jacobo

I’m a husband, father of five, and lifelong learner with a deep curiosity about how structured thinking can unlock deeper understanding and more effective problem-solving. For over two decades, I’ve explored psychology, philosophy, technology, art, and faith—seeking patterns and connections across disciplines to build a cohesive, proof-based approach to thinking. As someone on the autism spectrum, my mind naturally gravitates toward structure, systems, and deep analysis. Writing is how I refine my thoughts, clarify complex ideas, and ensure that insights are not just explored, but demonstrated and made applicable. This blog is more than just a space for discussion—it is a living system for structured exploration, where creativity, business, philosophy, and personal growth intersect. Every post begins with my own thinking, and while I use digital tools to assist with clarity and organization, the reasoning, insights, and conclusions are entirely my own. I write to think deeply, connect ideas across disciplines, and provide a structured framework that others can apply to their own work and lives. If that resonates with you, I hope you’ll stick around. For more on my approach to writing and structured thought, see the About This Blog page.

River valley river—a stream of consciousness exercise.

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Hello you. I’m about to wind down for the night and as a cool-down lap I decided to let myself do a stream of consciousness session for about two minutes. Enjoy! — River Valley River Low sod mosses tomb stones; bay bridges hedged with communion hay. Hey! Don’t step on the yellow petaled flowers that grow along the river. Do not throw the works of skill into this vein. Watch it meander...

Pillards pleas along with his girlfriend were laughed out of the pub by attentive mid-day patrons.

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Here is a prompt I wrote this afternoon. Enjoy! — Prompt: A quick encounter. — “Holy crap Pills, that’s three IPAs in an hour,” Jake said. “Didn’t you smoke a huge bowl with Jenny before we came?” Pillard threw up his elbows, sniffed his armpits, and raised his eyebrow. “Do I smell like weed?” “Hah, I don’t know man, I don’t smoke.” “He doesn’t!” Jenny sat up from the polished pub...

People say I don't talk—I talk plenty. People just don't give me a way in.

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Prompt: Jennifer is lonely. — I drop the bent tin lid into the empty can of chicken and close the sandwich. I smell it before I bite it. Smells like Mondays. The crowd is the same. The table is full of the nameless and uncategorized. Farthest from me and the vending machines, the serious academics sit with their pens whipping their textbooks in time with the mechanical drums in their...

Misfiring neurons manipulated the meat and bone it left behind.

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Prompt: write a scene that moves through description. — The whole world was yelling at me. I was by myself. I was wearing my blue shoes and yellow shorts. I always wore a black shirt. I had tons of them but people thought I only had the one. Sometimes that was funny, sometimes it was frustrating. I wasn’t wearing my glasses then—this was before September. The thin membrane of my inner ear...

Ruth of the Railway Station

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Here is short sketch I put together for you. Enjoy! — Whoever has happened to pass through Turgenev Railway Station prior to 2009 will have seen her. Even if they don’t remember, she was there. On the day I met her, I had just missed the last train to Albuquerque. “It’s only three,” I said. The cashier scratched his mustache, shifted on his feet, and looked to his...

The creature's screams chill Maggie's bones as she descends the mountain stones.

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Here is a prompt I wrote this morning. Enjoy. — Prompt: The creature. — Maggie drove the spear fist-deep in the creature’s chest, twisted it, and tore it out. The creature howled; stalagmites trembled around them. Maggie retreated, crouching low and facing the creature. “Enough…” it said. Steam escaped the wet wound under its hand. “Enough, I’ll go …...

The King's Letter

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Here is a poem I wrote this evening. Enjoy! — The King’s Letter See you not my torn ear and tattered paw, And prove they not my battlefield valor? Victory over forest and fortress! What better measure of a king than they Who sing of him with tender cadence all? Mark my worth in ounces by these voices. For your king is a good king, generous, Whose bountiful gifts swell with my love...

Caleb Jacobo My Thoughts and Creative Writing