I didn’t open your email right away because I was busy. No, I was not working late hours in the office. I try to leave as early as I can every day. Nor was I spending time with family. I only ever attend important family get-togethers, like weddings and funerals. I was busy, though. I was in bed, thinking about my own existence, questioning whether I am even real, or if any of this even matters, and I may have gotten carried away. See, I sat in bed wondering just what I know

I hope when the crowd gathers, and the stadium is full And everyone is ready for the big show. I hope they are all screaming your name, kid. I hope that your name is the one on the billboard and is uttered by everyone who is there to see you. They are all excited to learn what you are going to do next. They see the greatness you have had in you ever since you were a child. And when they do scream out your name, I hope you give them someone to look up to, A role model for the

Judge a man not on his accomplishments in his field of study nor by the fleeting greatness that the world bestows upon his mortal head. Don’t judge a man by his wealth, for the stocks he buys, or the gold he accumulates. Not by his strength on the field of the sport he chooses, his speedy legs, or his enormous arms. Ignore his oratory skills that can lead a nation in and out of war. The charm that lights up a room and makes believers of us all. Don’t look at his grades or his

Dear Lord, Jesus Christ, that which conquered Death and forced open the door that was jammed for all time, look upon those souls who we lost on that fateful day 23 years ago. Those who ran into the den of hell and, without any second or hesitation on their end, gave their lives so that the world could be saved. You saved the world for us all once, Lord, and I am sure that you can save all these departed souls, the true heroes of that day, who burrowed the darkness and the ash

I was going to bleed all over the page here for you as a good poet should. Good poets are adept at confessing things to their audience that no one really wants to hear. When a soul confesses their life, though, it is okay and acceptable all of a sudden. I was going to spill my soul in between the lines. Allow every vowel to have a piece of it. The odd lines can have my good deeds, and the even lines can have my bad deeds. Or maybe I can randomly spill my soul all over the

“People change, do they not?” A boy pleaded with a girl, who stood there physically but mentally left a while ago. “Surely people change… The day starts as morn and then becomes night. You don’t see the morning dew in the evening. You don’t experience the darkness during the day Am I not like the day? Or how about the weather? Are we not that different than the weather we bear? The storm becomes the sunny day. A sky once filled with rage and wind transforms into beauty and tr

Teaching is a touchy subject for me. I come from a family of teachers. My friends are teachers. Everyone I know is a teacher. Expect me. I do not teach. I have never stood in the front of a room as degenerate children stared at me wondering what was tonight’s homework. I never taught a kid extra help on a topic I was not that interested in. I don’t know what it is like to send a kid to the nurses office or to the principal. I write. That is the stupid decision I made with my

A disgruntled worker leaned up against the cement wall behind the yogurt shop, smoking his cigarettes as the new guy sat on the curb by the dumpster. “Bukowski was full of shit.” The worker said to the cold air. “Saying he banged every girl who read his poems. Fuck that. No poet gets that much pussy. Or any pussy, for that matter. Guy wrote a perverted poem and got some success with it. So decided to write a bunch of dirty shit. That’s like Poe. He played to the audience. I

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