Poetry

Hard work is a lie. It is a lie told to you by above average individuals when they are asked why they are successful. The geniuses don’t claim that they needed to work hard to be great. No. They have natural talent. They don’t need to work hard. There is a difference between working hard to improve and working hard to maintain.

Sometimes I want assurance from people who I shouldn’t get it from. Like people who want my money. I want them to type to me that it is okay that I am behind on a few payments. Type it. I am not talking to them about this. I want to feel as though they care that I got a promotion, and my life on track. Do they? They don’t even have the time to talk to me, what do you think? I get scared when I hear the word collections. I don’t know why. I never had a nightmare where some mon

What do you think Napoleon saw when he was left alone in the Pyramids? Did he see anything at all? Or was it merely a myth? Perhaps the would-be emperor saw nothing and this very idea is nothing more than speculation, a fancy imagination, similar to that of Alexander the Great being a member of Camelot. Fascinating for the figures involved, but nothing nearly true involved. There are some who think that Napoleon had something happen to him when he was left alone in the pyrami

When I write stories, I write to solve problems. Give a character an issue, and then create a solution to it… Somehow. Whatever the issue may be, I can always count on the fact that the story will be fixed. I am a pretty positive guy with my view of the world, not allowing the constant negativity to make me see any less positive, As the world cries anarchy and chaos, I wish for peace and civility. As we all live in fear, I preach patience and love. As the world turned black,

Maybe we killed the creative genius. The one who is supposed to speak for all of us. The voice of the people. The author who walked among us. The singer who sounded like us. The smart person, who was somehow still for us. We did not kill this person through a coup of betrayal and power. Or in some elaborate assassination attempt with madness and violence. We grew. We got better and more complex. And as the industrial complex grew, so too did the need for material. We created

Sometimes I wake up and feel like Tupac, I ask myself if I should just end my life. One clip, one click, one ending. Click and then boom. My story would be over before it got started. Life sucks, so screw life. Screw all they say about it. All that guru bullshit the heathens teach. All that nonsense of goodwill they pass to keep you grounded. All of life sucks. But this gun, this gun may do the trick. I will screw life by taking my own.

Let me get this straight, There are aliens trying to spy on us by hiding in plain sight, changing the very fabric of the reality we live in. AI is trying to manipulate mankind with its information-gathering speed until it becomes self-aware, and we must fight them for a war that will end all wars. Climate change is destroying the ecosystem and may very well destroy all life as we know it, causing catastrophes unseen since the Bible. And the Devil is just sitting on the sideli

They don’t tell you about that day.   The one you will question everything you are and, what you became, and where you will go.   Where the world seems to stop for a moment, and you are uneasy about the motionless.   It will be on a Tuesday mid-morning, At around 11:12 AM, On your lunch break, As you eat your chicken McNuggets with that sweet and tangy sauce for the third day in a row.   You would have gone to Panera Bread, but that is expensive, so you are now in your leased