New Project

My wife suggested I start a new project. Starting October 1, 2022, I will write one short story per week.

I will collect them all and publish 4 books at the end of each quarter.

I will give a brief description of each short story on each Saturday. The first story description will drop October 1, 2022.

These stories will be a combination of true stories of my life and fiction pieces.

Until then. Enjoy yourself.

Bulletproof

Take a breath

Lose it all

Wasting time

These holes

Are not Me

Bulletproof

I am

Just let me be

I’m fine

These wounds will heal

I am

Gone

Wonder

I wonder what it is like to have ones “act” together.

I, obviously, do not. I cannot seem to get inspired by life and living. It is as if the world around me is bland, or that I am not as interesting as I think. I am bland and I inspire blandness.

I wonder.

Fell

Boredom excites the mind to new heights

One falls through sliding hips of glimmering gossamers

Writhing in agony of ignorant wraiths,

I fall asleep among the ashes of my broken dreams.

Charismatic pain

Forever tracing lines of disasters

Against my minds eye of unfortunate decisions

The smiles creased against the scars

Rays

I wonder where my thoughts arrive

Washing through my mind and soul

A tsunami of nothing and everything

Worries encapsulated and squashed or fossilized

Into a thousand opalescent entities

Never knowing when their bleak shine

Will enraptured me and

I wonder where my thoughts arrive

To much

Find the time to write

My worries and frustrations envelope me

My mind reels and flounders

The worries break me and I

Find the time to write

Thoughts

Lessons left untaught

Tears left unshod

Words left spoken when silence preferred

Scared

Unwittingly afraid

Of failures and features and fractured things

The miasma of the self proclaimed

Imposter

Fake, fraud, charlatan

The ever increasing feeling of overwhelming mediocrity

Am I even worth the time to criticize and condemn?

I ask these questions of myself and have know answers.

I am me. I may be good enough alone or with my family and friends.

Or maybe not.

I feel ashamed and afraid that I am never going to be good enough got my own hopes and dreams.

Are my hopes and dreams even worthwhile?

These are the things that drive my dreams into nightmares and beyond. Going to sleep with the feeling of failure and waking knowing I am.