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Clear and Precise Resumes aims to get you set up for successful job searching, increases your opportunity by giving you detailed and concise documents, using elaborate and trade-specific language suitable for your career goals, and provides you with a grounding for how to navigate the human asset market, to value yourself, and to create a foundation for you to enter either your first, second, or life-dream job!

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We’ll discuss your best steps and get you out of the slump, pattern, or situation you are in.

all the best. Hope to hear from you.

Wishing you a merry day,

A place to work, live, enjoy and play,

And a sign of good hope and cheer,

When you come to see all you’ve done was not in vain,

A little time in prayer and worship frees the pain,

And sometimes when I click or tap…

Surely when we get to that…

I know that it will be alright…

Work!

Remember to smile.

Remember to ask.

Remember to sell,

A good or bad task,

And when all that proceeds,

Is mercy or pain,

Remember to thank Him.

And go each day in, to work on time,

Then take your break, only once in mind,

And then give out help, advice or wisdom even,

And if you get anxious, let them know you are leaving,

And if it goes bad, then call up some help,

If something gets stolen, remember to yelp.

If he is late then judge him, with a soft little joke, or maybe let the guilt, as I’ve often toyed,

And if it’s for sale, it’s not to be eaten,

Unless it’s regarded and something not worth keepin’,

And if it’s a fight, intervene with their break,

If it’s a customer, don’t treat it as fake,

And if it’s a noise, get back onto task,

If you can’t hear them, they’re probably hiding,

This message was written late at night and honest,

I somewhat enjoyed this this year. There was some little to do to cope with all the loss. There’s good parents, darn good parents, but those flashbacks. Oh those flashbacks. I had my parents over for a few minutes and even though I was the most ashamed person I thought I could be, they left me and my cats gifts, a small tree, helped me get the little gifts I’ve saved up all year for others to the family home… yes. I still consider my mom’s place to be home sometimes. The apartment building I live in feels like a prison or insane asylum 20%-25% of the time. I liken it to be because I’m always seeing the same walls, long hallways, the 23 or so other tenants, and of course, alllll the noises from the floors, walls, hallways, traffic, airplanes, and I find I even think when everything seems to be going just fine that I’ve tried everything to cope; gaming, music, TV, reading, writing, drawing, cleaning, smoking, hygiene, eating, drinking – it all seems logical sometimes! And the rules, the choices, the games, the both good and bad comments and the just judgements and keeping up with the joneses. I’m sorry I don’t have a car. I wish I had one. I’m a little troubled by people who need help and I might be sorry sometimes that I don’t always have the finest foods or the most glamorous job, but I’m happy because actually it’s pretty good. I mean yeah, single, have no kids, but an attentive cat and many books and toys, and gullibility, is that what it is? Whispers under the breath, shouts in the streets, ignored hellos and quiet smirks, these all mean or meant things at points when looking for hope or reason. I’ve been the patient soul. I’ve been the guy who doesn’t or at least very rarely bangs on a wall or floor, I don’t break the apartment laws, I suffer through the cigarette smoke in the hallways, the Marijuana seeping into my apartment. When I do things, at least I do it respectfully. I guess that’s a positive. Sure, it’s like I can’t even take or make a phone call without someone listening, and maybe everyone wants a buck, but I used to give so generously, then people came into my life and told me so many rules that I either ignored or forgot, or followed when it might not seem appropriate. And I can at times hold my breath so long for relief that I burst, literally in a word and then a rush of speed, and end up here, where I was most trying to be more, here fixing and correcting, hoping yes, I’m alive. I’ve been being hounded by my guilt for ages, always wanting to be a better person. I read once to stop making those efforts, to just relax and let it sink.  Perhaps, I think metaphorically the lesson. Maybe Life can only give what is had, and I confess that the more I try to tolerate… Even though you’re a neighbour, a customer, am old friend or even just a familiar face… I know sometimes that I’ve sometimes more wanted the perfect sweet little graces. YeH, it seems surreal, but I’ve been so nice because I know how it feels to be in control. Maybe not, but I wonder how come some people seem to have no guilt, when I often do. Is it because I don’t make people feel guilty? Maybe we all have the ability to turn minds or turn a mouth off. When spoken in so long silence, at times I forget what my own voice sounds like, I probably called the help line thousands of times. Some just pity you. My thoughts might be right here, maybe volunteers only do it to better their career or make themselves feel better that it’s ‘not them’. I feel angry at the guy who even told me that himself. Those weird personal thoughts are not even supposed to be shared there. This is where and why I’ve gained a little faith in humanity and turned so many times to the Bible. Jesus is a proponent, a long-standing rulebook and rule-breaker perhaps, or at least rule-knower that came into life as really what I feel is a victim. Honestly, I think I can sympathize. Words, ability to have control, ability to make the correct choice. I’ve heard it from several of doctors, and therapists. I try to be nice to my brothers and sisters. Give, work for them, serve them. The ‘golden rule’ may be that ring on a married person’s finger, except it could still apply in other ways. Nobody ever tells you that. Urine, P-ray.

It might just be jewelery, a beautiful sect of business that has some secret code that I’ve felt, because I’ve always been the ‘genius’. When you want something, they say you do it yourself correctly, because nobody thinks about you more than a few moments until the distractions (perhaps) – I think I’ve seen both sides to that coin. The good people are your allies. Honest too, I might not always trust me, but things you write often provide an outlet, a mind dump, a coping tool… and it does take everyone love to cope. We have to love. There’s no choice. Placed on this planet to serve a God or a man or a woman – Maybe all – that we shouldn’t be picky or too careful who gets picked. That’s my story for now, edited a while and poured out on some generous, prolifient and proactive readers, and us. I believe now of the times that commercial is demonic.

Between the aftermaths, I got distanced and not even one time, several, to people that believe the good of things when they’re desperate to fit in too… which is so ironic really in hindsight because I doubt I want to be the same as everyone else. We might all want to feel unique, but different. We all are, aren’t we? I didn’t think anyone on this planet would want to be warm, quietly tapping on a phone and trying to manifest a reality more balanced than the one suffered through in small little increments of time. I’ve come to give and expect some sympathy. It could make one feel miniscule mind you, demotivated maybe, trying to do nothing wrong. I’ve been hiding without privacy letting safety be safety, when its possible. Funnily, the internet will regurgitate our lives, the AI, in fact likely before and even if I don’t post this, it probably already has captured key words to help/sell/annoy me. You probably know that and sometimes dread it like me. Minutes before going down the long-winded silent mind dumps, I haven’t stopped until wondering… where were you internet when I was wandering around clueless. Where were you when I made those 3000+ panic calls. Sitting there, listening, watching? No! You were working, praying, teaching and guiding me into the love of Christmas. Maybe 2 years were rough because I was used to loving death. But because I love you, myself, and anything that I realize now has just led me to believe,

When I can restart, I would just fix the broken parts. There has still been some strength, faith, and honor. Though,

Sometimes for 20 minutes I remain the same. Wax poetic. Same problem everytime, with no solution. Like I’m looking for a solution to a problem that I created. Just like them and anyone else I guess. A way to make a different choice sometimes, without hurting anyone in the process. Because of Spectra, that’s me, more concerned about other’s feelings than my own graces. I’m lucky even to be alive most likely. There’s always doubt. I freeze up for a few seconds, when I do not know how to choose. Overthink set in about 30 minutes prior though when that happens. Then the scare. The guidance. If you do that, turn to electronics, because of a smiling polite mom. She gave me the love of video games and fun and it developed into a very unique belief system. Though I don’t play much anymore, the pastor seems not to condone it, and it did consume a lot of my earlier life.

Usually then.

it’s been to and from. That place I’ve often been. Looked at it for the last two years. Look at it this way instead. People screaming is worse.. I am home to me, a mate and pet, and those precious moments of reprieve, until the night mind gets too much anyway. Then up, eat, work, and play.

Merely hoping you have a better day each day and that when you read this, you find and comfort yourself as best you know how.

… thank you.

So, believing is something else. When I feel trapped, I read, I write, and I go on with life the way I know it. Then there’s an interruption, like the system, a vice, or even a whisper that someone offers as they pass. That’s how I know, that’s how I’ve coped, and sometimes the devil I know is better than the devil I don’t. Today I felt a little lost, in general this could mean yesterday, now, or I will be soon. Good advice is so hard to take. I’ve thought about new work, food, money, relationships, family and friends. Today, like I said yesterday, is new like the last. Maybe it’s true, I can’t make a choice. When I was at church once, it got eerily silent and I screamed: “I don’t think I have a choice”! And it feels like that sometimes. It truly does. I heard a lot of options. I can’t be everywhere, I can’t be myself all the time; yet, somehow I am. If you’re reading this, oops, I missed the ending too. It goes on. That’s all I know about life. It goes on even after the thrill of living is gone: right? There is a thrill in living. And being a perfect little angel, but a liar at that, doesn’t solve the world’s issues. Being motivated, being encouraged, being loved, and having someone to share life and laughter with, that was the cure.

Let me tell you how.

Take advice. Draw the lines. Build a box with a door, a window, and a lot of free will. And then meet yourself.

“Life is like a rolling wave – sometimes it comes in, sometimes it comes out. But if the wind and rain and sun and pain speak to you: put it down on paper. And remember. There’s more to life, but some things never change – and moreoften than not, some things do.”

Matthew James Vlasblom

The problem is that one commercial.

If I hear it again, I will have to be bulletproof.

If I play it, it will possibly do it to someone else.

How does one beat the cycle.

I have the worst marriage in my universe. I’m stuck. I

I’m not sure how to try

I’m going through something.

It’s a door.

My thoughts.

My enclosed space.

This is probably all wrong.

Because I already know it is. Maybe, only

I’m falling apart. My habits are breaking down. And I needed a cigarette and I got one that lasts for days. And now my perfect moment to quit seems to have disappeared. I still have to function. The cigarette doesn’t extinguish yet. And I don’t even know if I should post this because you are reading it. Was I supposed to believe in a weird marriage? I sure did. And I did what she told me not to do, and everything I did to avoid becoming like her. And I did.

This life behind this wall is brutal. I’m trying to stabilize. I’m trying to get help. I’m trying to take back that moment. And it might not end. It was supposed to be a flame. To actually burn the oil down to the end will take days. I want it to end now. The pain. The disease. The problem. There was some problem I couldn’t figure out. All these years. We might be the problem. I am loved. I love. I live. Enjoy yourself – and be yourself. The upwards hill. The downwards spiral. In the end its all often the same. Some things change slowly if you can see it. I don’t want to lose any more sleep. I don’t want the bad, but when, I could be needing help again. I have only faith too. In something. I hope whoever finds the letter here sees me as clear today. True.

It makes you sacrifice

It makes you sweat

It makes you panic

It makes you fret

Sometimes you worry

You can’t remember

Then there’s trains

And sometimes Heather

Sometimes there’s memory

Attached to receptors

A dendritic post

Of perfect weather

And sometimes remorse

Usually pain

And I am through

I won’t do it again.

Because I did,

I continue to write,

Each day and eve,

Because you’re right

There’s echo of lapses

And time in a shell,

But that stupid thing,

Put me through

To an interruption of flow

And signals and rhyme

And maybe this one

Was the perfect time

So that I won’t delete

Or runaway,

From everything I did

5 hours away

And solely I can’t prove the between

But you and me,

We’ve always seen,

That I’ve never wanted to,

Do it clean.

And save yourself,

Don’t pick it up,

The bridge is too heavy

Life ran amok,

And you because – you’ll want to haunt me,

I choose your fear is not the potty.

But you because

I’m alone in here

With double double triple sneer

And maybe mom

You’re timing me

Because last Thanksgiving,

I wasn’t me.

So now how many,

How many trains,

How many missed ones,

How many brains,

Does it take to tell you that,

I also feel the heart attack.

And when I stop,

To reflect and sing,

I realize that,

Nobody is probably listening.

It dotday closure perfect composure singing off for life and dawn

And should you ask what I am doing,

I’m regretting for never suing. A guy who truly took advantage of me, And left me

Good day

And ok.

This is the mind.

Whatever you are now,

Truly. Just mind your own

Sanity.

Vanity and Family. And then I remembered,

Either way. I’m damned forever. The only things inside this head, are echos of time lost

unsaid.

I could I woulda, but I shoulda knot.

And before the bee, I said you lot. And maybe there’s too many

I hope you forgot to curse the other way.

Because I can’t do it this day.

See I wove it all out too.

Love, I’m tired of avoiding you.

Create the space you did and then,

Life began rehidden then

There’s a huge derailment awaiting you,

If you wait for you to choose the things you did undone for you.

It’s just that there are holy gaps.

And black reminders of the facts.

And even today I’m watching you. Forgetful how I ever knew, that the last two hours are all I write. Today became accidental devil’s night. Which means that I am up till two. And up again in two hours more. Man and God, it could be so much easier for us both to get to know each other better than the last time we were together ❤️ 💔 🙏 💙 ♥️ 💜 ❤️ 💔 🙏 💙 is the tax 💙of your life and your family pets are very important to you in your home and told them I will check in with them tomorrow and get 💙 on them with the block 🚫 for the next scheduled time and being patient pays the bill for the record of your interest in your business hours of service and your service technicians are available for free and will provide more information about your company or your business 😀 and to ensure your success will become available again for your time to catch up with you when I can be in today and in meaning that you are well and I know I will not be a concern about your business but if I should be able help out in any necessary way I could be of assistance and to be a concern to me being a good person and a strong person for me and I know I can do to cope and get practice but it is not the right thing I’ve done so much to do anything to make you happy belated Joanna is a great day to be able and we don’t have any other kids that we can talk to them on and I don’t think they are going on the job through the process and the stress of this is the next blood of a mind and the stress of your interest in your body has not sure how much I’ve missed anything I have done for me and I know I can be ordered by the time you get here but if I don’t know how much I will need it I will need a new one and have generated a few hours for it was just to be able and I don’t think it possible hi there are a safe trip to your organization’s and you told us to go back and see you soon and we can talk to them and get away with you guys and get away with it and it would relieve me into a bit late in the day today and

And then I panicked and found them and I should’ve taken the pill. There’s always a do

Doesn’t seem possible

But maybe if you look out

For some cue of the time,

And then you rhyme,

In perfect lines,

You just end up frustrated I think,

Don’t do it. Don’t admit. Don’t reminder perfect eerie reminder. Thanks. I’m sorry I kept avoiding you, but frankly we were always through. Maybe you would save the day, Don’t do it anyway. Maybe if you saw the open, space of time and wonder woven – doing something else than sit, maybe I didn’t realize it. Maybe all your words were true, maybe when I said I love you, maybe when I lied to try, maybe when I said goodbye – maybe when I wanted one to see, maybe when you believed in me. I’m stuck in the past and maybe you’re forward, maybe we smiled and I ignored it, maybe there’s more than wind and sun, maybe someone was someone.

Sometimes, belief is everything. Sometimes you just gotta be yourself. And sometimes, you gotta step back, relax, remember yourself, and that a computer screen is not the whole you.

Everything below is the workings of a mind in overdrive. Everything below is all the thoughts and words and ramblings of a guy with a lot of anxiety, ambition, drive, dedication, and intimately, ultimately even, a lot of love.

Thank you for reading, browsing, scrolling or writing. Life is good – whether it always looks like it or not.

Matt.

P.S. May the peace of God, good-will, science and grace always be with us. Bless your soul.

When I wonder aloud, or interstate, or interspace or contemplate,

I’ve considered, earth to mess, with gravity and light at best,

But shine the ray on hope and cheer,

Have with me, some other beer,

And solely I recount the days,

Where many things laid with overlays,

Do cast along without her mana,

And namesake to the end of grammar,

Where empty home meets joyful sound,

Maybe 20 years or 30, 50 ground.

So solely as I write in web,

I consider people like Erie and Web,

To forsake a cotton wasp of soil,

Christmas day or how to boil,

And egg and chimera casters wheel,

Atrocious monster and pipettes steal,

Sarcastic sorcer and aloud, aloof be haven forken salad. May even flow or evertide, 

Since glazed ham system override.

And today I heard it three,

Miniature of statue wee,

Plus the English in triggered sound,

Radio of horn come loud,

Or feet along a parquet floor,

Or cat or mouse for door to door,

This mind has many thoughts and prayers,

For people’s little under cares,

So call a deer and shade a frown,

Callus and a timepit hound,

And manifest a brand new day,

Where poem meets the shake today,

A sentence written and rehearsed,

Can carry evil in its curse, verse, little frail universe,

So maybe time will stop right now,

What are you saying Matthew, anyhow?

I’ve heard a lot of great real words,

And solely verbal overload,

Many kids or temptuous lays,

Chips and purple intervals,

Caustic over a frankly chide,

And rhythm hards the warblers pride,

Cool to touch but soft and able,

I remark its not unstable,

Solely because I heard it first,

Don’t air laundry in the universe.

So hidden it with a shell of patience,

Dig a lot and interspace it.

And then the note it will appear,

Maybe now or in a year.

Thank you Jesus for inspiration,

And cell phone for a shake filled nation,

I’m not Korean than I can understand,

Shit meets open makes water spoken,

Lalla la is the curse broken?

It’s nice and quiet he does forget,

Talk like that and then forget.

Plusent interface of interfact,

There’s a cockroach under that,

And if safe

Then understand

Sometimes I’m just writing to make a sound, to hear the heart beat of the phone resound. Sometimes when I walk and pray, I wonder if I’d make it home in time to say, that I have a lot more than you might need, and truly time and space is seeded, like a game inside the inter-eden. And yes it’s good, I like to play. I like to see what minds create. And maybe verse is overused, maybe verbs are common truths. Maybe I have lots more questions, and perfect harmony in silent rations, so the time it overlaps with me, I hope that anyone believes in me. I’m truly a little dork inside, a bottler-upper and run-and-hide. I spend a lot of time to learn, that when you lose you also learn. Let’s rehearse one more today, all the things you shouldn’t say. And when the 39 rolls by, I will stop choosing to shy, because we spit faster than I can bend, a word inside or Outland then, I remark I know she’s odd, or something else and I’ve faux-pas’d. Somewhere in about 5 hours, we’ll hear it through. Or maybe in a fraction less, because the tiger’s time’s best guess; and why I still in this old cantor, I guess it’s because I can’t lamenter.

Don’t you find it funny now,

I’ve almost forgotten and I know how,

That she was wrong to just be right,

And I doubt I’m going to sleep tonight.

If you’re reading and ready then,V

Ask me to stop for a pee,F

And I let it all be seen,F

And the double double seam.G

Hijk lmnop

Pomegranate sigh. That’s a new one. Does anything survive,G

When the alibi costs too much to die

And maybe perfect is ok,G

Until I smoke it out today.

Start writing down something else,

Because she lives among the other night elves.Lussandr

Rags and riches and soup to stone,I

Have forgotten people like to bone/phone and phone home in little homing Rome songs.

Will anyone pay for 6 more words?

Is it going forwards or backward?

In the end it doesn’t even matter.

I tried so hard, but got so far,

But in the end, everything truly matters,

And that’s why I believe it. 77 81 twenty four and son to son. I wake each day at half past 4. To see you look out at the door and say hey Matthew make it home today.

On the FaceTime mass

Maybe in the English tone

I hadn’t been alone

And although the space it knows

That he reaps what he sows

In fectious laughter

Nome release

Same to name the lace

And should the new

Be common too, to square or modest jaw

I last a daughter or two T time

And manifest squire lines

So breathing is ok for me

Salvage what I know

A little bit

A little int

And magic or windows

Don’t end the day with ring things

Solve all other rhymes

And then let go to come again

To each of what they grow

Something good is that I’m here,

About to make a train,

In case there’s lightning up above

Love wins out one day again.