The Voice He Hears (Part 2)

They comfort him, all of these faithful friends. The threads of nonsense. The musical talents he wishes he could greet at the end of their sessions. The lukewarm Rum. With each day, while tucked away, he binds to the melancholy. A glimmer of hope knocked on his door on an August morning, but he didn’t answer. It was too much like work, peeling himself off … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 2)

The Voice He Hears (Part 1)

Running away. That’s what he’d always been good at. Ever since he was boy, it was a necessity, finding those places to run to. A thick book of fantasy, the bottle of Rum, or, perhaps, the twisted perversions most dare to mention. All of the lies he would tell himself. The escape artist, basking in the light of seclusion and unreasonable reason. Flash-forward to the … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 1)

Behind those Foster Grants Of Life

It is interesting to see how the emotions play such a huge part in our experiences. I turned on my computer this morning to see a small monkey gripping firmly to a tree branch as the Windows program was booting up. Random pictures appear in this process, and they are usually accompanied by a few words to draw interest that pertains to the image. Anyway, … Continue reading Behind those Foster Grants Of Life

A Little Insight…

There has been a running focal point of frustration within the writings that I choose to post, and I thought I would take the opportunity to explain why this morning. I’ve been upset with the “church” experience, many times over. Yes, one can tell me the usual, “No one is perfect.”, or the standard, “You must go to church. God commands it!” Although I agree … Continue reading A Little Insight…

Late

Foolishly, we wait. Along the roadside of our expectations, we wait for someone to rescue us from our despondency. We wait for the new day to bring the same somethings that have been available to us all along. We wait for a change, to satisfy, with the hope of it staying for more than the familiar sojourn. We wait there, at the shoulder of our … Continue reading Late

Times of Some

Sometimes, it’s the setting sun. It’s the way the tree appears featureless as the light on the horizon, behind her, is leaving for the eve. A silhouette, left in the dark, until the light returns to brighten another day… sometimes.   Sometimes, its the song. Three single notes, pulling the fears from the eyes, as the acoustic speaks what we couldn’t say. Taking all the … Continue reading Times of Some