Tag: prose

Ranting on Those Bastard Collective Neurosis: Religion and Spirituality

I’m not going to lie: I have spent fifteen minutes attempting to open this entry. Here goes nothing world, Lawrence Black now contributes his metaphysical phislosophies to the pithy sum of all religious and spiritual thought. Godspeed, Sir Black.  That, unfortunately, was the best I could do. It is difficult to write about your spirituality: in…

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Notes Before 31

I begin my thirty-first trip around the sun in seven days. Trip being the key word. Life is indeed – if you open to it – it’s a great trip. Fantastic, magical. Never thought I would grow into something different than I was at twenty-two. I was so naive back then. But that’s how naivete…

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The Young Actuals

This is me; having realized that no matter how much of a writer, hippie, or bohemian I am, I am also a guy who enjoys success in business. After all, you wouldn’t want someone else to judge you through a single lens or label, so why do it to yourself. You are not this or…

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Draft #4

I’ve saved three drafts tonight, and dodged I don’t know how many personal bullets.  I wonder how many writers let their unconscious script their writing, and thus their lives? For me, by draft three I knew these were conversations – or, rather, drafts – to share with her.  And I’m sure we will learn something…

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Only Yesterday

The sun will rise tomorrow, As straight as the crow flies; Daylight will come. And it will be a good day for some, And for others: one dark and tired But I promise you this: They’ve already decided – For whether they know it or not: Their day is upon them. But – Shall they…

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Prose: Katy Perry

I have things about me, qualities and characteristics, which others may perceive as flaws, but I am me, and I am perfect.  I never thought that I would become a man, but I am me, and I know who I am: I am the programmer of the game called life.  And I do not take…

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To Be Okay

This year I have become myself. Or, maybe, I have just crystallized into something whole, maybe I simply feel complete now that I know that this is as whole as I will ever be. alone. And in all my solitude, in all my hours burning candles, in all my facing of myself, I’ve finally become…

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Goodnight Moon

Each day, we have but one day. And reality is as real in the moment as it is false in others. Sometimes, we merely need different mirrors in order to see beyond ourselves. This weekend I saw beyond my own [mirrors], which gave me a glimpse into my future – the life I want. And…

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If Not Now, When?

So many drafts; just like my life: my business a draft, my books drafts – my success a draft – my dreams a draft. But alas, life is no rehearsal; I play starting squad on a team of one every single day. And here as I sit, shoulders haunched, stomach slightly pudge and paunch, this…

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The Song I Sing As a Man

I am so terribly happy, I find myself stupefied by my undeniable joy. Never have I, alone, felt anything like this; and it’s not the transitory kind of happiness either – my disposition seems to have altered; although, it’s not without cause. I’ve doubled down on my boyhood dreams, put my money where my mouth…

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6 Feb, 2015: Piñatas

Long afternoon shadows. Watching kids strike a small, child-shaped piñata in the park. The scene eerily not unlike someone lynched, beaten. The act senseless were it not for the candy splayed out onto the grass, soon to be in the clutches of tiny, selfish hands. We do things like purchase piñatas for children to beat…

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28 Jan, 2015: Library

It was nice going to the library today – hell it was downright spiritual. I assume it was a similar feeling to what stepping into Wrigley or Fenway would evoke in a twelve-year-old who dreams of hitting home runs. Poetic, corny, whatever – fuck you ego. It was kind of sad to think how empty…

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Second Birth of The Soul

At a certain point every idealist comes to a crossroads, a place where he realizes he must choose between two burdens; he can either suffer the opinions of the masses, or he can suffer the world’s resistance to his own. He must now decide if his suffering – and his life – is going to…

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Poetry: A Day or Two or Three

One thousand-ninety-five-days, almost there Bunny S. I was just getting good at this. Yeah, you’ve heard that one before huh. Anyhow, let’s settle on those names we’ve chewed on and plan the whole thing as it burns. Watching our dreams carry away like remnants of burning paper to the night. It’s a strange thing seeing…

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On my Poem: As Above, So Below

My poem As Above, So Below was originally inspired by the plight of the North Korean people – specifically the 150,000 to 200,000 estimated denizens of the regime’s torturous gulags. In my own reflecting on this dreadful and strikingly overlooked fragment of the modern world, as well as in my reflections on the human rights…

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