We All Have A Secret - Here Is Mine

    Those who read my short story last week will see the metaphorical reasons for why I put this picture here. A few months ago I wrote a blog about an issue that I had developed with alcohol in the past and how I overcame that issue.  I still get emails concerning that particular piece...

The Vain Cycle Of Vanity...

Me stuck in the trunk of my car is much more interesting than me taking a picture of my own face. The farther we go through time, the more we all seem to put a higher value upon our own self importance.  I hate this. I want to feel old, so allow me to put a time stamp on myself for a moment and...

The Interest Of Being Boring...

I guess we can never say I have a shortage of articulate titles when it comes to writing.  Half of the engagement to drawing someone in has to do with the initial thought and the rest happens if you can hook someone into your topic.  That is what they tell me anyway ("they" meaning some people...

"Creative" Is A Noun - Not A Verb...

I have been in this fight of a headache for a few days now.  Being entirely serious, this pain began in the early hours of yesterday morning and has still not managed to subside.  Writing this right now hurts, but lies in one of those momentary instances where if I don't write as the thoughts come,...

Let's Be Real - No, Really...

I find myself explaining myself more than I should. Actually, back up for a moment because that is not entirely true. Perception is something I have mentioned in at least one blog before, and the perception I made mention of is the way we appear to those around us on a daily basis.  Within our public...

And I Can't Believe That We Would Lie In Our Graves...

We lie. Everyone has their own moments of being untruthful in some faction but the real truth behind the act of telling a lie is the compound effect. I have no reason to tell you the meaning of what I just wrote - we are all adults here, right?  When we really look at what happens as the result of...

Live Your Own Death...

I have been thinking, and not about anything of monumental evaluation, but more realistically than in the past.  Spending considerable time alone can do this to a person, especially when that time is spent in taking long runs on wooden paths.  My constant and my handicap tends to dwell on the reality...

Embrace...

Comparisons exist for entrapment A sense of uniqueness no longer matters We spend so much time: The hours, the minutes, and seconds drag on In this desperate search to find something That one thing, that one person Maybe an action, or just some signature We always fail to look Spiking judgment on the caring...