It is time.  I am going to take this lump of very rough clay and make into something worth sharing.  Thanks everyone for your kind words of encouragement over the years.

I am gone ( Read more... )

Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes
Oh no, There is no turning back now
You've woken up the demon ... in me

I'll fly a starship across the Universe divide
And when I reach the other side
I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
Or I may simply be a single drop of rain

But I will remain

And I'll be back again, and again and again and again and again..

Again ( Read more... )

Tell me brothers, sisters, 
do you listen when it rains
or are you worried something's
going to end it all today?
Is there anything that you had wished that you had said
or is it all just bouncing like a bubble in your head?

Run, run 'til you're far away...

My shift was over and I was driving home.  For being in the middle of the Mojave Desert, there was ( Read more... )

I heard a noise at the door and raced toward it it, a gun in each hand.  I could see the outlines of two figures at the front door, their features distorted by the frosted glass and iron bars.

They were not dead, but something was off about the two standing at my door.  I stuffed the gun in my left hand into my waistband and flung open the door ( Read more... )

The Feasts of Samhain

Devil's Night

and

the Dead are walking

again.

A strain of a bug called H5N1 has mutated and raced through humanity like wildfire. It has a 90% mortality rate.

The bite of the infected dead has a 100% mortality rate.

This is nothing new. It is deja vu.

We are ready...

I am two in one.  Two very similar personalities merged into one being.  Most memories of our past are remarkably similar.  Some are not.  Since coming here, I have found myself struggling for a memory while looking down the far recesses of two nearly identical lives.

And the dreams.

In this world, I sleep and dream.  Again. 

Can’t tell the real from reflection

When all these faces look the same to me

In every city such a desolate dream

Some days are too strange to number

Some days the seventh sounds a little bit stranger

A year of Sundays seems to have drifted right by

(I could have sworn) in one evening

I’m not seized by desperation

No steel reproaches from the table ( Read more... )