Tag Archives: memoirs
Thoughts That Keep Me Up At Night
I try not to create when it is late. When the light bulbs are buzzing and the crickets are having small talk. I feel like going on a walk. Somewhere I can clear my thoughts from the memories—nostalgia—thinking of people I knew. Continue reading
Fictional Memoirs: A Poor Excuse
There’s so much to do. So much. I haven’t a clue,
how to hold the door open for the person behind me. I didn’t ask for them to find me. I didn’t ask for them. They ought to know better than to follow my heed. All I have in my heart is greed. Here I am; male, twenty-two and still struggling to be cool. I don’t know how to act when the pressure is on. I get sidetracked and pretend to be withdrawn. I don’t know how to dress. I’m really a mess. Continue reading
Fictional Memoirs: Suburbia Of Comfortability
Love your enemy.
As your life has gone, you’ve never been much of a winner. Albeit you reached the rank of Runner-up, thinking of how close you were makes you bitter. Encountering people with differing ideologies and preferences makes you frustrated and annoyed as if those other human beings are attached to you like glue. You curse them militantly, strategically reinforcing the perception of their stupidity. Continue reading
Fictional Memoirs: The Prison You Call Home
The toughest prison to escape and the most contained estate, is not the penitentiary. It is not the secluded island or even the buried lock-box. Continue reading
Fictional Memoirs: Compassion
I feel sick.
The pit of my stomach is bothered. It’s not the pills that anguish me. I think it’s the hills. The constant journey, up then down, makes my strength wane and brings me to the ground. For a moment I feel bold, but the next I’m frozen, not from fear, but from insensibility.
Fictional Memoirs: Selling Hope
How does one perceive goodness from the mundane? They sell it. The Greatest Salesman in the world once spent 11 months trying to sell one carpet. The same single carpet. Why? Why would the Greatest Salesman in the world spend rigorous hours for one sale?
Everyone told him that
Fictional Memoirs: The God of a Moralist
I unite generations and disappear when the consequences become clear. I promote peace and love justified through forced moments of upset tears. I prey on the fundamentals and open lives to ideas of service. Through me kings have
Fictional Memoirs: You
When you fail, that is not the end. When you lose, that is not the end. When You pass away, that is not the end . . .
Assorted Virtues 