Necessary

NECESSARY

I think I’ll write a poem that speaks epic truth, tonight
It doesn’t matter if you tend to lean left or lean right
Politics aren’t helping us, the gap is greater in-between
We need to stop fixating on whose King or who is Queen

We need to shift the focus to what matters, that’s for real
We need to stop the spinning and start breaking culture’s wheel
Martin wasn’t joking when he wrote that brilliant line
The story’s great, sure, but a grander message lies behind

Nothing’s stronger than a thread that’s woven one and all
But if you try to weave it on your own you’ll sadly fall
History has proven this, it’s not news to anyone
The ink in this here pen I wield weighs more than your big gun

Every life we live is shaped by minds that can run free
And if we came together just imagine what could be
Forgiveness, empathy, this is what we need
And we ever grasp these things our whole planet will be freed

Fire doesn’t put out fire, its ego you should bury
Someone had to say it, right? These words are necessary.

My Hands

Never idle, on the move, ink pours on the page

The force that drives, a needed guide, is with me on this stage

I try to be an optimist, but sometimes I’m consumed by rage

Thinking of how things are done and how they could so quickly change

Yes all the world’s a stage you know, it’s something that you shan’t forget

The sun and stars would get along if only they’d shake hands and met

Humanity could follow suit, we’ve got the tech but somehow, yet

We manage to exacerbate the very things we should forget

Fossil fuels and everything, you know that it’s all temporary

But tell me more of how it works, and how mining isn’t mercenary

If you truly want to change the world into a gilded sanctuary

Then play the long game not the short, and hire you an actuary

Maybe they can run the numbers, project a truth that you won’t like

Their findings likely point to truth like human beings should take a hike

Sure, we all know that we need to build that interstate or that turnpike

Yet as we do this trees are cut, it’s like the land of the Third Reich

Yes it’s so, the world’s a stage, it’s just a game of checkers, chess

We put our pieces on the board, where we think they’ll help us best

And when we find a new chance to establish ourselves, let me guess

You want to build a military presence just to clean the mess

Sure my man, come on down, bring your gadgets and your tech

Cause I don’t really care what happens as long as I get that big check

You see this is why the world is wasted, all it’s countries are a wreck

We let the people be in charge that only care for their own neck

Maybe one day you’ll wake up, realize that this dream of yours

Doesn’t have to happen this way and you won’t be on all fours

Rising up and taking charge, you’ll fight and finely take these lands

Until then I’ll try my best, just writing with my moving hands

Writing, as it Relates to Me

I want to share something with you.

I want to share my perception of the thing that saved me from the dark halls through which, until recently, I was being forced to traverse. See, for the longest time I felt as if I’d been carrying a curse, as I walked through things as mundane as the local mall I’d occasionally pass a mother and child and, with something as simple as a short glance at a purse, I’d need a moment to sit down and stare at the ground  and just get lost in thought as my eyes locked in on my shoes seeing the eight little letters that make up the word “converse”. And as in thought, I was immersed, I’d notice the Mom and child fade away from my peripheral vision as the scene in my head was dispersed as instead I looked up and recognized how diverse this whole room was. Something which made me wonder why, despite my attempts to be rid of my curse, was my focus still so combative and stubbornly perverse? Why had my eyes, as if by some magnetism, drifted toward this mother and child, as images of the nurse from the fourth floor of the ICU and of the hearse I never wanted to follow behind began darting through my brain as if I’m now being coerced into this seat where I could at last allow my burdening thoughts to intersperse?

Yes, I would like to share my perception of this most wonderful of creations.

I wish there was a more intimate way to share these times where I just, simply, sit down. Times, whether it’s on the ground at the dog park, or in a seat on a patio bar downtown, or a high table at Jonathan’s, where I can usually be found after a long day of work as I diligently add to my writing background. I wish there was a way for more people to be around when these beautiful moments, which are so rarely found, sweep over us as the most profound thoughts come at us; endlessly inbound as we take the simple and start to expound. It is these moments that instill awe and confound, metaphorically providing the sensation of living a whole life afflicted by deafness as we now, at last, hear our very first sound.

Its something that I wish we all would do more often.

And by that, I mean share. Because the life that I lived before words were my ware was one for which, now, I just really don’t care. I was shallow, I was selfish, I was fake and unfair, and I now, here in hindsight, even hate my old hair. See, there’s one thing I promise; I emphatically swear. So much weight can be lifted, when you open and share. And while yes, the things I write are written with intentional flair, this sentiment I’m typing is as real as a prayer. Get the weight off of your shoulders, and you no longer care for stares, as everyone around you knows precisely the wonderfully flawed thing that so courageously stands there. There are no more secrets, no more lies, no more burdens that you bare, and the only thing you’re donned with is that gown of truth that you wear.

Its like that feeling you get when you’ve been walking through a scorching hot zoo all day long and everyone’s been like “let’s look at this, and this, and that, and this,” when all you really want is a freaking sip of water as you finally finish walking through the African safari exhibit and at last arrive at the centrally located walkway of mist, which leads into the food court and you now can finally order the largest water of your life.

In other words, you feel refreshed.

And that’s the feeling I want to share, which I mentioned before. I don’t think its necessary to explain what I was like before I began to write because not only was I a bore, but I’ve actually already covered it so instead let’s look forward and consider the things that the future has in store. Because the one thing I want to make abundantly clear, as my depressingly sad thoughts turn to into long awaited cheer, is that the very thing I’m doing has quite literally saved my life from what would have undoubtedly veered in the worst direction I could steer had I not, through my tears, come to the realization that I feared which I had been so afraid was awaiting, unavoidably near. So yes, I should pay homage to that which put my life back in gear and that is this: writing.

Words. Words have saved me.

Words have saved me, you see, because despite all the pain and the malice which have coursed through me for so long, a certain sense of liberty has manifested recently that, honestly, I can’t explain as I sit here with her picture, with my dog, and with my thoughts; which, inexplicably, seem to finally be set free. And while I don’t fully understand why my brain has allowed me to take this unfamiliar, seemingly carefree approach as of late, I don’t want to do anything that might cause it to flee, because it’s a sensation for which I’ve been waiting every hour, every week; a feeling that could be described as the long-awaited blossoming of green leaves which at last expose themselves after patiently waiting through a brutal winter that for so long tormented their sad, barren tree.

I want this feeling to last forever.

Yet I know that this, sadly, is an impossibility. But that won’t keep me from constantly, aggressively grasping my life as I force it forward; as I refuse to let anything slow my pace. There is not a thing in this world that will keep me from storming the castle that I see before me. No, I will recruit each and every fiber within me, arming with fire whatever soldiers I need to ascertain that I have an adequately sized force and undefeatable army through which I can destroy with impunity anything that dares stand in defiance of me and the alliance that I have created which now stands beside me.

Arm me with words, and I will destroy anything that gets in my way.

Because words, you see, are the infinite expanse on which we can set sail; for they make up this deep, endless sea of possibility that, in all actuality, contains the only vessel that boasts the capability and the necessary degree of sheer diversity upon which I can pen things such as Continuity, or my poetry, or anything else that I might hear or see that I think needs to be recorded, holding full culpability for the thoughts that I think, the sounds that I hear, or the sights that I see. It is only through words that I can fully express myself.

And that, my friends, is writing; as it relates to me.

Written in Stars

Close my eyes, give my thoughts the reigns

As the darkness outside, it brings the rains

The bittersweet memory, it engrains

Every value, love, regret; it pains

 

Open my eyes, and I start to write

Blow the candle out and dim the light

Pick a concept and my pen takes flight

Thoughts hold the reigns and they’re pulling them tight

 

I’ve written two books now I’m on book three

But tonight I’ll discontinue Continuity

Cause my thoughts have steered toward this poetry

I’m just a passenger writing on this carriage, see

 

I don’t know when I sit down each late evening

What will pour out or what my thoughts will bring

The compass just spins as it weaves this ring

That I use to propose to this writing thing

 

Every second of my life there’s one thing on my mind

What’s the word that’s coming next on my journal’s line?

Searching for the others who spend all their time

Like me, all their thoughts consumed by prose and by rhyme

 

Yeah so many out there say they work so hard

But there’s just a few who know they really hold that card

They put on their mask and they put up their guard

But when the time comes they just seek fame and reward

 

They say they’re virtuous, yeah well I say, please

They need to study up on Kant or Socrates

An unexamined life isn’t worth living, these

People preach morality but live to appeal and appease

 

But that’s how we’ve created this world of ours

We can’t stand the pain yet we keep creating these scars

And then just forget it at the concerts and bars

Yeah that how we live, as if its written in stars

Pyramid

Pain

It fills my veins

Evades the remedies

Reaches all my extremities

A life of love so temporary, I allude

I opt instead for darkness, and solitude

Pen and pad are all I want, they’re all I need

Though I try to hide the pain, each day I grieve

Search for calm and peace of mind, a still reprieve

It will not matter now or then, the things that I achieve

The only thing that matters is creation, look and see what I did

Read and read and keep on reading, at the end you’ll see – my Pyramid

No I Say

You want an album? No I say

Cause I don’t rap, not any day

I just write, my words they say

Enough for you and me today

 

I get it, all these things I write

They make sense when you read at night

This world is filled with hate and fright

And reading lends a small respite

 

But when will this all change, I ask

Cause fixing this is my one task

I know I’m not the only one

Who wants to rise and get it done

 

I guess I’ll have to wait and see

And keep on writing, fervently

To change the world, its hard you see

No gun I need, just poetry

Without You

So long they’ve waited, wandering

Watching, waiting, listening

For the next one, pondering

Ever are they wondering

 

The wait is over, never more

Alas, the knock is at the door

Get up and answer, I implore

You’ve found your long, and lost Lenore

 

The time has come, turn back the clock

The stories all the stores would stock

Are coming back, my hands have brought

The classics that, you all forgot

 

The world has changed, but don’t begin

To think that things, are different

The written word, it always lives

So do your worst, this world of sin

 

Continue thinking you’re the one

That changes things, well where I’m from

You cannot find, with just a thumb

Happiness, not even some

 

Your things, your brands, your money, see

Don’t mean a fucking thing to me

So take your watches, take your things

And show me happiness it brings

 

If you can say, to that above

Your life is full, its filled with love

Then friend, I’ll be real and true

This world is better, without you

Tough Love

When you’re bored, don’t bitch at me

Just shut your trap and write, you dweeb

Don’t pout and whine and stare and blink

Just grab that pen and think and think

 

Come up with something folks will read

And sell it so your dog can feed

Don’t waste your time excusing the

Stops to productivity

 

Its not that hard, just look at me

This poem right here took two or three

Minutes to type, unless you need

To count the time I took to pee
Cause then its four, technically

But hey who’s counting? My point, you see

Is writing can come easily

If only you just sit…and think

Don’t Wait

Oftentimes, I’ll look to see

The person looking back at me

Watching through a hazy lens

At who that strange reflection is

 

Staring forward, several blinks

Is he the person that he thinks?

Does he do the things he speaks?

Is practice coming from the preach?

 

My eyes still glare, this man ahead

I’ll wonder what, that day, is said

Right now I live, and yet I dread

What memory, of me when dead

 

What mark have I bestowed upon

The family that I belong

I hope they say, when I’m a thought

That happiness is what he brought

 

Improved the lives, of all the men

The girls and kids, the children

For life is but a journey, yes

We walk and run, we talk and dress

 

We do the things we love to do

To make ourselves enjoy the dew

Every day, a precious gift

So smile wide, and heart uplift

 

This path is short, don’t waste your time

Just search and search until you find

The purpose you’ve been looking for

Unlock and open passion’s door

Free

Sitting, gazing, pondering

Watching, waiting, wondering

What things do others think at night?

What lights turn on, when shining bright?

 

Some will think of gentle breeze

Blinding true priorities

Truth is veiled, this life of fun

As fear resides behind the gun

 

Condemn them not, instead envy

And long for their reality

To think the things we wish to be

This mind, it pains and torments me

 

The words I write cannot express

But for my sake I shall digress

Question all, its not a sin

Your truth, the real, comes from within

The Tiki Torches: 1

“‘Ay Carl!”

“Wut?”

“Ya think this in’ll work?”

Strolling along the calamitous alleyways of the local Wal-Smart, Carl and Joe have a bit of difficulty deciding what torches to carry to their Klan march.

Plop

“There!” Joe shouts, proudly placing his newly acquired bug-deterrent torch in the basket, ready to check out.

“Now just you wait a tick,” Carl says, squinting his eyes as he pans the strangely smelling torch up and down. “I think we can do better’n that. That one ain’t gonna light much ‘a nothin!”

“Hell, you’re prolly right, Carl.” Joe says, scratching his head. “Well, shit on me and call me a skidmark, what’re we gonna do now?!”

“You hold it right there.” Carl says, matter-of-factly. I’mma fetch us a torch the resta the boys’ll be talkin ’bout for weeks.”

Exiting the aisle of bugly torch sticks, Carl takes several minutes before returning. Joe, meanwhile, stands next the Wal-Smart buggy, picking his nose, rolling boogers between his fingers.

“Ha!”

Suddenly, Carl jumps into the aisle again, a brand new torch in hand. It seems he has given up the bug repellent torch for a new one. A brilliant, highly flammable….tiki torch.

“This one’s gonna light up the night like you ain’t never seen!” Carl shouts to Joe, beaming at his new possession.

“Awwww boy, that thing sure is gonna make a lotta light!” Joe chirps, flinging his booger behind him so Carl doesn’t see it.

“Come on now. Let’s check out and join the resta the boys!”

For Better or Worse

Chapter 1

They’re so cute!”

Looking into a giant glass terrarium at her small colony of pets within, a little girl tugs on her father’s sleeve to get his attention.

“I know, dear. They’re very cute. Now get tucked in, it’s getting past your bedtime,” the father says.

“But Daddy!” The little girl begs, peering back at the many small creatures inside. “Can’t I watch them play just a little bit longer? Look! Aw, look Daddy! Those two are loving each other!”

“Come on now, little girl. You’ve stayed up late enough. Time for bed.” He says, lifting his daughter up as he hoists her into her sleeping space.

“Okay, okay.” The girl sighs, watching her father place the wide veil over the terrarium to cover it. “See you guys tomorrow!” She shouts gleefully at her tiny creatures.

Kissing her on the snout, the father tucks the little girl in and turns off the light.

“Good night, little munchkin. I love you.” He says, closing the door until it’s just slightly cracked.

“I love you too Daddy.” The girl replies. Waiting until her father is gone, she lifts her head and peers at the glass dome.

“I love you guys too,” she whispers, closing her eyes before slowly drifting asleep.

Chapter 2

“Rise and shine, everyone!”

Quickly pulling away the large veil covering the girl’s terrarium, she excitedly greets the occupants inside.

“I bet you guys are hungry, aren’t you?” She asks matter-of-factly. Walking to the small closet in the corner of her room, she grabs a packet of food and a pale of water.

“And it looks like your lake is almost all dried up! You guys must be thirsty!” The girl exclaims, ripping open the food packet as she pulls back the small square door at the top the glass dome.

Holding the packet over the center of the little community of creatures, the girl shakes it until all the tiny morsels of food have fallen out. Watching her pets scramble toward the newly dropped food, she smiles as she pours water into the side of the dome where a pond-like crevice has been dug.

“Drink up, teenie weenies!” She cheerfully says, closing the lid.

As she places the water pale back in the closet, she notices that one of the tiny creatures is laying underneath a group of mini tree-like plants, not moving.

“Oh no!” She cries. “Not again!”

Placing her hands on the glass to lean over the dome, she looks down at the recently deceased pet.

“I told you all to stop fighting!” She tersely shouts. “Why can’t you just get along?”

Returning to the closet, the girl reaches in and grabs a long, skinny pole with a tong on the end. Re-opening the glass lid, she nabs the dead creature and chucks it outside her open window onto the lawn below.

“If I find out which one of you keeps doing this, you’re gonna be in big trouble!” She asserts, holding the tong up. “Now ya’ll behave while I’m gone!”

Closing the lid once more, she puts the tong back in the closet, exiting the room to spend the day outside.

Chapter 3

“Aw, yay!”

The day after disposing the dead creature, the little girl is pleasantly surprised to see that two of her pets have had a baby. Standing over the dome with a wide grin on her face, she looks down at the two tiny creatures nurturing their teenie, fragile newborn.

“Good job, you two! I hope the others take after the example you’ve set.” The girl coos, giggling as she watches the little family huddled together in the corner of the glass enclosure.

“Oh! But wait!” She says, remembering the chapter in her booklet that teaches how to properly take care of the creatures.

Sliding the lid open, the girl reaches down and grabs the newborn pet, pulling it up out of the dome. As she does so, the parents become visibly distraught, running to the edge of the glass as they watch the little girl carry the baby across the room.

“It’s okay!” She shouts back at them with a smile, seeing their distress. “I’m just making sure she’ll grow up nice and strong!” She adds, placing the small newborn in a separate, much smaller container.

Obviously not comprehending the reassurances of the girl, the baby creature’s parents remain at the edge of the glass for the remainder of the day, helplessly peering across the room at their new offspring, wishing they could be together.

Chapter 4

“All better!”

Pulling her arm from out of the tank, the little girl slides the lid back on her glass habitat after setting down the little newborn she’d taken out the night before.

“Those nutrients will make you a super pet!” She shouts, watching the parents finally reconnect with their baby.

“Anyway,” the girl says, sounding bored, “What are the rest of you guys up to?”

Stepping over a few feet to observe the little colony of creatures, she scratches her head.

“Why do you all keep doing that?!” The girl cries. “Stop splitting up!”

Since she first got them, the creatures have shown a tendency to huddle together in small groups. Some are lighter colored, and some are darker, and they seem to prefer grouping with those they resemble.

“You guys are sooooo weird,” the girl says to them. “You know you’re all the same little things, right?”

Looking back to a bookshelf against the wall, the girl grabs the instruction booklet that came with her pets’ terrarium. Opening it up, she turns to the pages that cover their interactions with one another.

“The creatures will have a tendency to keep close proximity with ones that look most like them.” She reads. “Do not worry if they display this behavior, as it is expected of them.”

Taking a moment to look at the tank again, the little girl shuts the booklet.

“Huh! Well I guess it’s normal after all, weirdos! But just so you guys know, I think that’s pretty dumb. You’re all made of the same stuff.” She says, sliding the booklet back in its spot on the shelf. “Anyway, its sleepy time! Good night little ones.”

Flicking off the light, the girl throws the wide veil over the dome and crawls into bed.

Chapter 5

“Hidey hidey hoooo!!”

Happily skipping over to the habitat on her table,  the little girl in the bedroom is gleaming over the new cut she’s gotten for her fur.

“Do you like my new bangs, teenie weenies?” She excitedly asks her pets. “I know you can’t understand me, but I bet you do! They’re very pretty. Just like you guys!”

Looking to a small group of less-than-healthy-looking creatures coddled in the far rear of the dome, she grimaces.

“Well, like most of you guys, at least.” She says, rolling her head to the side as she snootily brushes her hair back. “Anyway, you’re gonna love the new toy Daddy got for you all!”

Opening the tank, the girl lifts a box and pulls out a large digital screen which depicts moving images of other small creatures that look just like her pets. The creatures displayed appear to be acting out their own little lives, similar to the ones in the terrarium. Finding a cozy spot to set it in the terrarium, she places the big screen down as the tiny inhabitants flock over in front of it, seemingly enamored as they watch the images.

“I knew you’d like it!” The girl excitedly coos, closing the lid. “No idea why, though. After all, those fake teeny weenies aren’t doing anything that you aren’t already doing yourselves! Why don’t you just watch each other, sillies?”

Happily scooting back to observe the new environment she’s created, the little girl spends the rest of her evening quietly watching them enjoy their new square of moving images.

Chapter 6

Caution: Creatures may occasionally engage in physical conflict. It is important for the owner of the habitat to pay close attention to how your terrarium’s occupants are grouped. Indicators of impending conflict may include, but are not limited to:

  • Two large groups of inhabitants facing one another in close proximity. Usually preceded by audible squealing of the creatures as a collective.
  •  Aggressive body language, abrupt movement, and loud vocal exchanges (when occurring simultaneously). Individually these behaviors do not necessarily indicate physical conflict. 

**Important**

If your terrarium’s inhabitants group together in close proximity while carrying small, board-like signposts or other tools, separate them immediately. It is recommended you allow two to four hours before removing them from isolation to reintegrate with their fellow inhabitants. This will allow their aggressive emotions to subside, creating a more peaceful environment for your pets! 

———————————————————————————————————————————–

Closing the handbook, the little girl sets her Creature Care Taking Manual back on the bookshelf by her bed after reading it.

“Silly teenie-weenies!” She says, laughing as she turns to look at them from her bed. “See? There’s no need for you guys to fight! It says right here you’ll calm down if you yourselves a little time to blow off the steam.”

Getting up to walk over to the dome, she opens it and removes the partition she’d placed down three hours ago to separate two groups of visibly angry little creatures.

“You guys are so cute.” She says as she watches the two groups slowly make their way toward one another, eventually creating one seamless, teenie-weenie unit.

“Good job! I’m proud of you fellas.” She says.

Shutting the lid, she turns around and leaps into bed, wriggling around until she’s created a little dimple in her wide mattress. Hearing the commotion, her father enters the room to kiss her good night.

“Hello, little one. How was your day?” He asks he as he blows her candle out with his long snout.

“It was good, Daddy! I made my little guys get along.” She says cheerfully, obviously proud of herself for mitigating the conflict. “They we’re fighting over something stupid.”

Laughing and smooching her forehead, the father brushes her hair back before walking to the door.

“Good girl. I’m glad to hear that you’re a peaceful overlord.” He says with a chuckle and a wink.

“I love you Daddy!” The little girl says, shutting her eyes.

“I love you too, sweetie.” Her father whispers with a smile, gently closing the door.

Chapter 7

“Ho hum ho hum deedeedee!”

Joyfully skipping around her bedroom, the little girl is singing and humming to herself as her furry pigtails bounce around behind her.

“Now, what are my teenie-weenies up to today?” She asks, skipping over to the terrarium.

As she peers inside, she sees that her little creatures have erected an enormous statue of her. Chiseled to perfection, the monolith displays her every feature, dimpled smile and all.

“Wow! Well look at that!” She squeals in delight. “How did you guys do that without me noticing?!”

Leaning back to admire the sculpture, she beams at the tiny inhabitants inside, who appear to be bowing before her.

“You guys are just so adorable. Thank you for my statue!” She says to them.

Entering her room, the girl’s father approaches the tank as he puts his hand on her head.

“Time for bed, sweetie.”

Noticing the statue, he chuckles.

“And what have we here?” He asks.

“My teenie-weenies built me a monument, Daddy! Look!” The little girl says, pointing to the newly erected obelisk.

“Very impressive!” Her father laughs. “You are clearly a generous God. Now come, let’s get you tucked in.”

“Okay Daddy.” The girl says as her father lifts her up, placing her under the sheets. Kissing her on the forehead, smiles at her before walking out the door.

“I love you, kiddo.” He says.

“Love you too Daddy.” The girl replies, yawning as she softly falls asleep.

Chapter 8

IMPORTANTHUMAN BEINGS ARE VOLATILE, DANGEROUS, AND EMOTIONALLY UNPREDICTABLE 

***Handle with utmost caution. Do not allow these creatures outside of the included habitat***

Setting her instruction booklet aside, the little girl takes one final look at her “teenie-weenies”, before clearing the tank to make room for her next batch of creatures.

“Sorry little guys!! I know you’ve been having the time of your lives in there, but I’ve got some new teenie-weenies on the way!! Daddy says they are even more exciting than you guys! Much smarter and more fun to play with. I’m sooooooo sorry!!!!!!”

Grasping the enclosure with her trunk, the little girl dumps the entire habitat of human beings into the drain inside her bathroom, flushing them down into the abyss below.

“Have fun down there!!” She shouts, smiling as the very last human swirls around in a vortex of death.

“All clean Daddy!” The girl shouts, waiting for her father to bring in her new pets. “These humans were fun.”

 

For Better or Worse (Ch 5)

“Hidey hidey hoooo!!”

Happily skipping over to the habitat on her table,  the little girl in the bedroom is gleaming over the new cut she’s gotten for her fur.

“Do you like my new bangs, teenie weenies?” She excitedly asks her pets. “I know you can’t understand me, but I bet you do! They’re very pretty. Just like you guys!”

Looking to a small group of less-than-healthy-looking creatures coddled in the far rear of the dome, she grimaces.

“Well, like most of you guys, at least.” She says, rolling her head to the side as she snootily brushes her hair back. “Anyway, you’re gonna love the new toy Daddy got for you all!”

Opening the tank, the girl lifts a box and pulls out a large digital screen which depicts moving images of other small creatures that look just like her pets. The creatures displayed appear to be acting out their own little lives, similar to the ones in the terrarium. Finding a cozy spot to set it in the terrarium, she places the big screen down as the tiny inhabitants flock over in front of it, seemingly enamored as they watch the images.

“I knew you’d like it!” The girl excitedly coos, closing the lid. “No idea why, though. After all, those fake teeny weenies aren’t doing anything that you aren’t already doing yourselves! Why don’t you just watch each other, sillies?”

Happily scooting back to observe the new environment she’s created, the little girl spends the rest of her evening quietly watching them enjoy their new square of moving images.

 

Normal? I’m Not

Where my favorite people at?

You folks know who I mean

Calling weirdos, punks and nerds

The strange, shy and obscene

Come, together we shall join

Embrace what others say

Then smack their smugly normie face

When they judge us for hearsay

I say let ’em talk, don’t you?

Let them follow all their “laws”

While we, instead, just laugh and share

Dark desires and faux pas

Some examples? Well I, for one

(And I’ll hold back what’s not PG)

Instead of saying “butterfly”,

I call it “butterflee”

Oh, I bet some do this too

If not, you might think “awww”

But when I get in bed at night

I’ll hold Baxter’s furry paw

I know that oh, so many folks

Who see stuff like this think

This dude’s is nuts, but I just grin

Toast irony, and drink

For we strange ascend to highest heights

To help prove it, below I’ll list

Some folks they may have heard of, and

Who’s “crazy” made them rich

To start, theres Gaga’s meaty dress

Which unarguably, is unique

If not for all her quirks and kinks

She’d be nine to five-ing all week

Oh, and Mister Johnny Depp

So many perfect roles can act

Do you think he would’ve made it if

He weren’t so damn abstract?

Let’s not forget Ms. Winehouse, in

This oddball gallery

Know what? (I actually mean this now)

Pause reading, play “Valerie”

So now you’re back, I truly hope

The real point was conveyed

Not to look down on the “normal” folks

But for “weird” – don’t be afraid

These labels blindly, thrown around

Why do they try so hard to judge?

Self-awareness, absent, in closed minds

Their misguided thoughts won’t budge

One can hope, the day arrives

When labels will be cleared

At last we finally understand

‘Cause truth is we’re all freakin’ weird

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Episode 7: Cultural Evolution

Episode 7! This week we talk about how far we’ve come as a species, focusing our talk on cultural evolution!

Reflecting on the Greats: Drew Karpyshyn

For my second entry in this series, I’ve decided to highlight someone who has had a particular impact on me in terms of inventiveness and imagination. Many of you will likely raise an eyebrow when you see the name of this writer. Yet many of you, particularly those versed in the realm of science fiction, will nod and smile in appreciation of the writer to whom I am tipping a cap.

As so many others in my generation, my recollection of my life involves a series of great stories portrayed in the form of video games. My kin were raised to the liking of Mario, Zelda, Donkey Kong, Crash Bandicoot, the list goes on. For me, personally, I always gravitated toward RPGs when it came to my video gaming habits. I suppose, subconsciously, I’ve always had a writer’s heart – as the story was first and foremost the thing that captivated me in my digital endeavors. Call of Duty is fun for awhile, but for me, I need a the intellectual stimulation of a well-written story to hold my attention for longer than a round or two of TDM.

It is for this reason that I’ve chosen to take a knee in honor of Mr. Karpyshyn. For any that are unfamiliar with him, he was a primary writer behind such behemoths as Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, Baldur’s Gate, and (most importantly for me), the Mass Effect Series. In fact, his work on Mass Effect stemmed into several novels, elaborating on the vastly complex and beautifully-hashed-out science fiction work of art.

If you find time to look into his work, I strongly suggest you do so. The environments he achieves, the motifs that are conveyed, and the sheer quality of his writing is awe-inspiring. As a budding writer myself, I’m compelled to send my deepest appreciation for those such as him for setting such a high bar to which I can aspire.