To The Followers

The first thoughts (as the coffee welcomes me) are the focus of my morning writings. It is the way that each day begins which encourages me to peck away at these keys. If I’m exhausted from the previous day of labors, I usually spell it out through the frustrated choice of word. If I’m cool, you get cool. If I’m amazed by His craft, you … Continue reading To The Followers

Lord

BOLD is the word that we use. Bold is the look that have upon our face as we accuse. BOLD is the finger of contempt. Bold is the authority that we claim to hold in our lordly attempt. BOLD is thinking we have the right. Bold is the correction we sternly give to their internal fight. BOLD is not lowly. Bold is the silent killer, … Continue reading Lord

On Fear Street

The haunted houses I used to visit were some of the scariest places on earth. The homes were filled with the same things that you could find within the usual home: pictures, appliances, furniture. The parts of the familiar when it pertains to daily necessity. Pretty lively places, overall. At certain times, though, the demons would manifest. The fiend would take on many forms. A … Continue reading On Fear Street

The Personal Real

I suppose my willingness to remain strong comes from the constant fight to not fall victim to my circumstances again, and to not begin to see the world in the same ways that I used to. It was once all that I was–my circumstances. It was the only thing that I defined myself as. Failures: circumstances. Wins: circumstances. No power to get on with life: … Continue reading The Personal Real

Feeling Like Doo-Doo

Today, thanks to the spreading of germs, I am sick. Ugh. I didn’t sleep well, have a fever and the beginnings of congestion in my head. I’m not sure what my stomach is planning on doing? Overall, I feel like doing nothing but typing out a few things, lying in my recliner and sipping some coffee. We all have gotten sick at one point or … Continue reading Feeling Like Doo-Doo

High On Our Hell

We used to live for the party. My friends and I would make it a point to find anything that would alter the mind and body. A bottle of booze, low-quality, mid or high-grade weed, powders in baggies that were, hopefully, what the dealer had said they were. Anything to numb. Anything to excite. Drugs and alcohol weren’t the only things that would get us … Continue reading High On Our Hell

The Derelict, They Say

Unless you’ve lived the hurt, you may not know how it is to walk in the melancholy, in a world such as his. The pull of the persuasive; those things of degrees not seen by the onlooker who boldly agrees the inward matches the outward, as they peer at the skin of the withering man wrapped up in that sin. Mistaken, they are, as they … Continue reading The Derelict, They Say