When you’re young it’s brand new. The feeling is fresh but when you’re old you see people come and go until you yourself finally have to say goodbye.
Hum… in all of my years of living on planet earth, I’ve never seen a scarlet potato.
It’s different, it’s unique.
It shows no sign of being painted.
The sun’s natural rays made something unique.
I wonder if it’s anything like a regular potato.
I wonder if it’s edible.
It’s the only one in the bunch and it grew on top of the ground.
I wonder if nature is trying to tell me something.
I’m the first person to ever see something like this;
at least the first person to recognize its value.
I’ll study it, or should I just leave it alone?
Things are changing or is it just my imagination?
Curious, I decide to eat it.
It doesn’t taste like regular starch potatoes.
I don’t think I should have done that…
My skin begins to turn purple.
My curious mind has turned me into something different, something out of this world.
The scarlet potato.
I wanted to tell a superhuman story but I was then faced with reality.
I wanted to lie and give people false hopes but there is a force that is super. This I know to be true.
It’s real and if you listen closely you will hear it.
When you’re down and out it speaks to you.
When you’re in trouble it’s always there protecting you and when it’s your time, it takes you home.
This force can drive you to do things that are unbelievable.
I can confirm it to be fact in this superhuman story because when I’m weak and I ask for strength, it comes abundantly.
You may feel left out, dead and forgotten, but no matter who you are there is a force that creates miracles.
Even those with an abundance of power cannot explain this force.
It’s uncomprehending, it’s unimaginable, it’s amazing, it’s super.
It makes grown men cry and it brings people to their knees.
It evens things out, it turns small men and women into superheroes.
It gives an average joe the ability to face the bully.
It gives a dummy brains.
It turns tragedies into miracles.
It turns feeble minded individuals into superheroes.
Man and woman can lie, cheat, and deceive this Christmas but the only force that can light the eastern sky is the force of good.
Be good, and I promise you that the light will always be there. It stays in the eastern sky and when my time is up it will create more superheroes like me.
Who am I?
I’m the Christmas Superhero and when reality hits only my superpowers can save you.
Who am I?
I’m a force for good, I’m there when you’re sleeping, and I’m there when you’re awake.
Who am I?
I’m the Christmas superhero, I’m a force for goodness sake.
The Christmas Superhero
You may not know it, you may not even believe it, but I’m there.
The Christmas Superhero
It’s an unknown force for good that flies in and saves the day.
It’s hidden deep inside your heart, use it for good and then you too will be able to fly above the earth and into the eastern sky when the light calls you home.
The Christmas Superhero.
The force is stronger than magic. It’s real super human strength.
It always saves the day, and better yet, it always saves Christmas.
I’m a man down on his luck.
I have no food to eat and not too much family left.
Life has brought me to my knees and I see tragedy almost every day.
I have my own addictions that I deal with because deep inside I’m in pain.
While everyone else sits in comfort enjoying every meal, I saw a tornado, hurricane and earthquake kill my people.
When someone asked who will volunteer this Christmas, I left the little that I did have and said,
“I will go.”
May God be with us and may evil never win.
“I will go.”
1. Gym socks.
3. Some fresh shaving razors.
4. A gift card to my favorite grocery store.
5. A hug.
6. Some washing detergent.
9. Shaving cream.
10. A fresh pair of Gym shorts.
11. Some suit ties.
12. And a brand new radio for my bedroom.
It was a week before Christmas and I was angry.
I mean come on, everything that preacher man said in the pool pit was a sin and a lie.
Folks had to be crazy to believe his mess.
Sex is bad, everything that feels good is bad, everything I like to do is bad. I must be losing my mind, I have to sit in a box and pay him every week to be good and go to heaven. Wow!
Here I am feeling bad about my own natural feelings that God gave me, while this preacher man is feeling good around Christmas and I’m broke.
What kind of voodoo is this?
Why does everything that I like send me to hell?
Frustrated at him and his congregation’s money game I decided to play the evil serpent in his Christmas play and reveal the truth, but his sheep were to blind to see.
I’d become a slave to this preacher man’s dream of a gold church on the hill in his father’s mansion. I’d become a slave to this man’s heaven, this man’s church, this man’s cult. I’d also become an enemy for revealing the truth.
In my own prison, I put my Santa Claus hat on and stole Christmas by painting his pure church black. I was churched out.
Hungry, and left alone, I’d become a black sheep.
I couldn’t take it anymore, independent and upset, I spread my black wings and flew away while that sad excuse for a preacher shaved the fur off of his sheep and sold it to make a profit.
That man is making a killing off of my misery.
Surrounded by wisemen as a child they often fade as time passes by. You become older and the wisemen die.
Jealousy and envy can slowly kill and destroy any movement, it’s evil, and too many leaders in a room are the proof.
I adopted children and I had to get them ready for the world so I sat 3 books under a tree with some toys to see what was in their future.
Ryan picked the construction book, he might be a builder.
Lyra picked up the superhero book, she might be a doctor or an athlete.
Frank picked up the Bible, he might be a preacher, politician or a businessman.
Watching them take their gifts and run to their rooms, Lyra stopped, turned around and decided to come back and thank me for being her father.
At this moment, my heart skipped a beat. If I make it pass sixty, there’s a good chance that she’s going to be the one to take care of me someday.
At this moment in time, I can only imagine, but I’m sure the mover of time knows something or Lyra would not have thought twice about me after she got her gifts. She also gave me a hug and told me that she loved me.
The 3 Books of Christmas
I need to have the correct attitude.
I need to let the real holiday spirit in my heart.
The spirit of joy, peace, family and love.
Yes, there are things that I don’t know.
Yes, there are things that I don’t have, but the good lord has blessed me with great children.
We don’t have much, but they keep smiling and encouraging me. My children.
They’re like little angels sent from heaven.
I know that only the true God could do this.
I have some family coming over, I plan to put my political views and other conflicting opinions aside because I don’t know what next year will bring. I may be ignorant of some things, but I know that in the end the only way for us to get through the storm is to stick together.
I lost my job and I honestly don’t know what’s coming at me next. I never thought that I would be selling lemonade in the winter time with my kids to pay the light bill, but I guess God has a different plan for our lives.
I’m learning something in these hard times. I’m learning the true meaning of Christmas and why the story about the child born in a manger is so unique.
Hard times have a way of bringing people together, the father of my children whom “I,” Alicia, married, came and apologized to me last night. One minute we’re talking about getting a divorce and just like that we’re working together to have a great holiday season. God must have heard my prayers. He has given me the greatest gift of all: A Christmas that my family and I will never forget.
Q. What’s the most terrible habit?
A. Making assumptions.
Q. Can I save the world?
Q. What’s the saddest part about life?
A. When people try to figure out or try to assume the amount of money that someone has in the bank.
Q. What is a proper way to live?
A. Understanding what you can and cannot do.
Q. What is real?
A. The fact that everyone has troubles.
Q. Why should I celebrate Holidays?
A. Holidays help you find time to spend with others, holidays help you understand the needs of others.
Q. What makes a person successful?
1. When they realize that most things in life are temporary.
2. When they enjoy each moment that life has to offer.
3. When they battle through the bad times, and rejoice when they make it out alive.
Q. What is good?
A. It’s the ability to recognize it when you see it and be able to focus on it once your mind has been opened up to other things.
Q. What is evil?
A. How you perceive the world around you.
Q. Why can’t people accept the truth?
A. Because it hurts.
Q. What is the most misunderstood moment that takes place in someone’s life?
A. When someone witnesses a person sacrifice something that they’re too afraid to sacrifice.
Q. What must we all accept?
A. That nothing is certain but death.
Q. What happens when you die?
A. Just like all energy, you go back to the source.
Q. Is there a God?
A. Yes, because energy can only be generated or nothing would move. God is the generator.
Q. Does life exist on other planets?
A. Yes, but we can’t see other life because our eyes are only made to see certain colors of the sun.
Q. What’s the hardest thing to accept about life?
A.The fact that everyone is striving for comfort, security, and stability, we all just try to obtain these things differently so overall it’s our choices.
Q. What happens when you go broke?
A. You start over.
Q. What is true wisdom?
A. Falling down and getting back up.
Q. Are some people born evil?
A. Not really, it’s our brains that give us a conscience, evil becomes present when someone becomes obsessed with a fantasy that someone else has. The truth is that without an abundance of knowledge we slowly return to our carnal nature and some animals are carnivores while others may be herbivores.
Q. Why should people celebrate Christmas?
A. Because it’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year why not join in!
Q. What should I hold dear too?
A. The fact that there will always be poor people and if we forget or have never been hungry, then our comprehension of what poor is may be flawed.
Q. Are we all the same?
A. If we were, you wouldn’t have asked that question. Now spend the holidays the way that “you” like to spend them. The world is a ball of wonders with stars in the sky, why not explore.
Happy Holidays, and may the good Lord’s grace follow you into the New Year, whether you believe in divine strength and purpose or not.
“Hey little Timmy, did you ever wonder what elements make up fire or how fire is created? …Little Timmy, what do you see?” Asked the gatekeeper.
Filthy drug addicts, imposters, con-artist, prostitutes, evil, crime, killing, manipulation, greed, envy, strife, sexual immorality, and blood sucking vultures,” Little Timmy replied.
“This is what you hate, is that right Timmy? These demons have driven you mad, haven’t they little Timmy? They’ve taken everything that you love…” the gatekeeper confirmed.
“Gabriel, let little Timmy loose so he can take back what God promised him, sit back and watch as justice is served,” the gatekeeper explained.
Little Timmy’s hunger drove him wild. He ripped out and roasted the guts of everything that God hated, he set the world on fire and unleashed the beast. The fire was so hot that little Timmy used the flames to cook the food that fed the righteous hungry children. Everyone else burned and little Timmy refused to open up the gate as the beast fed off of their souls.
“Do you feel better now Little Timmy?” The Gatekeeper asked handing his job over to him, “Now you know how fire is made.”
The new world was better, a new beginning. Timmy saw his dream come true Christmas morning when his whole family returned from their drug and crack infested graves.
Timmy healed the world and sealed it with a colorful rainbow that only God could create.
God keeps his promises.
Timmy spread his wings and flew away with his new eternal friends and family.
Hey, it looks like a bomb just blew, what the hell happened to the land of the free, home of the brave? This place is a mess, godless, greedy, with little spirit left. Well, I guess I’ll sit down and wait for God to tell me what to do next.
I’m going to sit here and wait for that little voice in my head to tell me what to do next. In God I trust.
Happy Veterans Day.
Today’s lesson is not about color, it’s not about race, it’s about something deeper.
I woke up this morning with the ability to take my own life, why would I?
It’s because of the fear of corruption.
Brethren, we cannot confuse corruption with political experiences, we can’t confuse it with our own experiences, but what corruption is can be explained, at least from my perspective:
Corruption is operating under the guidance of self influence, it operates without the spirit of God and it doesn’t matter what color a person is. It’s a virus that spreads with no soul or spiritual influence but to be self inflicted by one’s own self interest and obsessions. It’s a cancer that spreads and a wheel that keeps turning on a flat tire.
I’ve been reborn into a better world. Ha ha! I didn’t kill myself slowly, corruption did. Corruption pulled the trigger.
Running through the woods I had to flee to save myself, the liberals were converting just about everybody, but I refused to be converted. Hiding behind a tree I noticed inflation and a trail of dead babies, these were their rituals. Drunk and perverted people hanging from hotel balconies with no hopes for tomorrow. What a sad situation I’d found myself in. There was no paperwork anywhere just beer bottles, tattoo needles, vaping pipes, drug syringes, and weed residue. What a waste. I stood up in a tree with my bow and arrow and awaited for my tribe to come looking for me. The liberals had stolen everything and they even spoke their own languages. Looking through my bow and arrow scope I could see more liberals coming in the distance. I didn’t know I had so many enemies. How did one poor soul become so important, I thought they were my friends, but they were looking for more converts. They’d converted just about 70 percent of the population. I turned my attention to the hang glider caught in the tree. This was my escape. I took a firm grip and flew to safety.
I started a new life with new people who had the same mindset as me. I was free. A new beginning. My very own exodus.
In elementary school, before every art lesson, my art teacher would say put on your thinking caps. She would tell this to all of her students. I guess for a person to truly be creative they have to be free to think. Complete liberation in their own mind. God gives us all gifts, why be tied down in a contract? Why be a slave to an industry and be just a number? All of my life I’ve seen things come to an end but in art, my thoughts, and the world that I make for others to see, this world can make the people that I love live forever. An artist should be free. Creation is all around us, doubt turns us into monsters to overcome and to prove someone wrong. I’ve come to learn that nothing is free in life, but to paint a picture of a free, oppressed, abused and left for dead outcast is priceless. The picture in itself gives the observer the ability to think and believe that it can be done. So what is Art? Think about it, spread your wings and fly. It’s freedom.
“Jerry, you were awesome last night,” Rita said, noticing something bothering her best friend.
“You alright? What’s on your mind? We got another big show coming up. You should be happy, you’re at the top of your career,” she explained.
Jerry grabbed his things and proceeded to turn off the rehearsal room lights.
“I’m missing something Rita,” he replied.
“What could you be missing? You have everything. Do you know how many lives you’ve touched at this point? You’re Famous Jerry.”
A hidden, secretive kind of love left Jerry in a trance. A trance that led him to walk away from show business and marry a seamstress. The family life consumed the well known star, his phone soon stopped ringing and he never did a show again.
He walked away.
Standing sixty-six feet above ground stood a lion with his nose off. In the distance was a Pharaoh and the wrath of God. Isis, the supreme Goddess conquered the underworld and was reborn determined to save her crying children. She was displeased at their living conditions and was driven to take them to the upper kingdom, the higher realms, beyond the sky. She saved them from the wrath of night and gave them eternal light. Witnessing their torment had displeased the Goddess for they had been blinded by false teachings. The state of the church had failed and when the sun rose and shined on the lion with his nose missing and the pyramid’s decaying peak, the Goddess was freed to heal the earth with her angels. She started by teaching her children the truth in their dreams, the next morning when they awoke the sky had fallen and they became enlightened with her knowledge of truth by breathing in the fog. Noticing that the tree was in the shape of a triangle, she and her children began to exchange gifts and when the sun rose the morning after it began to rain gold in the shape of candy canes. The new land where her children were born overcrowded so they spread out and repopulated the earth. The day of peace could not be undone, her strength was too powerful. The Goddess of life had walked the earth and her children spoke and taught with truth. Their language spoke things into existence. They rebuilt their home, the awakening was a new dynasty. The Goddess of life was so powerful that her truth on earth could not be undone. She bowed to no one because her power came from the God of truth. Fascinated by her aura, the flowers began to grow and the land became rich. Her symbol looked like the rays of the sun and when the people saw it they kneeled and worshiped. New life, new word, and a new world had been born. It was a new day.
BEWARE, this is a scary story. WARNING, ⛔️ read with CAUTION ⚠️
On a cold October day, you could literally hear the wind blowing through the colorful fall trees. The smell of funk and garbage floated into the nostrils of little children trick or treating as they passed by the Crosby’s house. It was a well known tradition in Scamsville on Halloween, but no one dared to enter or trespass on the property. The old dirty gray chipped paint in itself was a haunting attraction. Dr. Crosby who was known for being a mad scientist had literally lost his mind. Inside of his house stood an entire room of pestilence and disease. Death literally filled the broken scientist house. Everything this scary man touched, he dissected, studied, and killed. No one dared step on his property because everyone hauntingly noticed the bloody no trespassing sign that hung on a dead tree in his front yard. The man had a license to kill and falling victim to a truth or dare, Janet and her friend Ann would have a Halloween that they would never forget. Ike dared them to pay Dr. Crosby a visit.
It was too late to renege on the dare, so there stood Janet and Ann trembling on Dr. Crosby’s front porch knocking. In what felt like a paranormal atmosphere, they could literally hear his rusty front entrance gate creaking with no one touching it.
When it appeared as though no one would answer the door, Janet and Ann couldn’t help but notice all of the old dirty surgical antiques off in the far corner of the porch. Ike watched from across the street.
“Knock harder!” He said, standing only about thirty feet away from the front porch.
Ann then banged on the old heavy wooden door that blew out small particles of dust as she knocked. Only an unlocked door would make such a hollow sound, so Janet, falling victim to peer pressure, turned the doorknob and the door opened. Ike saw them enter.
As soon as they entered, the draft of dirty air filled their lungs. The threads of silky spider webs slipped across their young skin. Creepy and spooky, were the only words that could define such a toxic place. The front entrance was huge, astonished at their discovery, Ann could feel something crawling down her neck. Janet could too. It had to be small parasites slowly eating away at their teenage flesh.
“Maybe we should leave now. The dare is complete,” Janet said, but Ann was just too curious.
The huge dimly lit room was flushed with expensive animal furs and dusty old expensive furniture. The exquisite designs couldn’t help but appeal to anyone’s taste. Old red cotton curtains laced with silk designs blocked the four o’clock sunlight from entering. One hour into trick or treating, watching kids walk the streets filled with fall leaves, Ike heard screams coming from the house. He dashed across the street as parents pulled their children to safety. Ike then bursted through the front door, only to see a puddle of blood dripping onto the floor from the nearby kitchen that Janet and Ann had entered. He was too scared to go further, the truth was that Ike was afraid of science. Turning around to leave, he noticed the door was closed behind him. The funk of dead people surrounded him. Ghost of some sort. Ghost that were alive. Dr. Crosby must have opened some gateway into life and death. Ike began to scream as the flesh eating human cadavers began to chip away at his chunky legs. It was like he couldn’t move. Thump, his head hit the ground, out of the corner of his still living eye that was drawing light from an opened curtain, he noticed Janet and Ann’s corpses hanging in the far kitchen. It was the end for Ike, for his fear of science lead him to be consumed by it. As his soul reached the other side, Dr. Crosby welcomed him into his paradise filled with everyone who entered his enchanted haunted house on Halloween. Noticing that he had just entered into another realm of a scientific hell, the massacre that lead Ike to his death also led him into another hospital run by Dr. Crosby.
Hearing the evil laugh of a mad scientist, anyone who dared trespass into Dr, Crosby’s haunted house had literally signed up to be massacred. They’d sold their soul to be his slave on the other side.
The Halloween Massacre.
To lose is to win… but why?
The preacher wants to preach…
The mayor wants to run the city…
The police want to serve and protect…
The governor wants to govern…
The teacher wants to teach…
The doctor wants to heal…
The artist wants to express…
And the leader wants to lead…
The most amazing part about each of these professions is that there is no success without the heart of a champion.
Each person goes on every day never knowing when their number is up… each person strives to find hope in something so they too can carry on…each person needs something to believe in, to want to achieve the impossible.
This is their business, no matter what, this is the profession that they chose. This is the profession that they must get up every day and do. This is what they live and think about.
The soldier must serve, and the baby must cry, but the heart of a champion keeps beating, never to give up. He or she may lose a thousand times, but in the end, from a child until maturity, they keep getting back up, only to breed and bear witnesses to more champions.
The key is to never give up. A champion only falls down to keep rising.
To lose is to win 🏆
They took the proper route, got married on Halloween, had kids, only to find themselves stuck in a dysfunctional scary world.
Terry had twelve children out of wedlock and tried to kill himself after a back child support notice.
Gina has three baby fathers.
Devin owes Ricky money, Ricky then ended up getting hemmed up by the cops for using Devin’s counterfeit dollars.
Jessie is a single father, his wife divorced him, now he’s running for mayor of the city. She’s been complaining about not voting.
There’s a rumor floating around town that the church leaders have been sleeping together.
Sissy paid half of her water bill and spent her child support check on some new shoes. She feels she deserves something after graduating from college.
Ray’s kids got caught throwing rocks on the freeway.
Ryan would rather watch porn than get a girlfriend, but who can blame him, seeing his living conditions. The environment just isn’t safe, nobody knows whom is sleeping with whom.
Fred opened up a business now everybody hates him and tries to figure out how he is paying the bills.
Teresa’s car got repossessed and her husband lives across town with her sister who is on welfare. Don’t ask me how that happened because the car is in his name.
Ted is racist but he has no choice but to go work for the people that he hates.
Jerry has been playing the lottery for years but has no source of income besides his small pension.
Tina has a rich husband and got her feelings hurt after his friends called her his trophy wife, so she sleeps with her neighbor from time to time.
Ronald is a veteran who can’t find a house because the rich people keep flipping them and he has no money for a down payment.
Samir is an illegal immigrant working in the kitchen at a local restaurant and wants more attention on what’s coming across the border. He feels that if he becomes a citizen he can make a difference. He talks about it quite a bit to his co-workers in his native language.
Lou sees all these climate activist living in well heated homes and driving in gas guzzling cars yet they nearly killed him for farting while filling up his gas tank.
Sam has no clue who his congressman is but he’s always trying to get people to vote.
Trina just donated to a nonprofit that seems to be making a profit because they have a better means of living than she and their donors do.
The gang down the street keeps selling drugs but complains about the road conditions and bad children in their neighborhood.
Donald just got shot on set in a non-violence gun movie.
The pastor next door just preached to his congregation about turning the other cheek yet has been heavily investing his time betting on fights.
I just got word that the President says he has the answer to fix what’s scary and dysfunctional right around Halloween.
“His exact words were ‘WE’ will own the future!” The most scariest part about his Halloween speech is the future is expensive so I guess “WE” will be paying a huge price tag to own it.
Another dysfunctional thing about this scary message is the simple fact that everybody dies in the future, even me.
👻 what a scary world. Frightening. I’m stopped at a light and notice a sticker on someone’s car reading Jesus is coming soon 🔜 . The car then turns down a one way street.
“Trick or Treat”
The theater is like a crumb, it falls to the floor for mice to eat. Money is like a wall with no windows, you can’t get through unless you pay to have a door installed. What is free?
Is it doing something you love, hoping for a paycheck or a thank you?
Is it playing in a play and not being paid?
Hey preacher, I can barely pay for my funeral, how can I pay for your church?
Hey director, I can barely pay for college and you expect me to be on stage.
What is free?
What is rich?
Am I wrong for not asking for what’s due?
Am I the devil for demanding what’s owed to me?
I know you have the money because you’re paying for your car and your mortgage. You’re riding around town in wonders of the world type vehicles.
Don’t give me that sour look, you should be happy to pay me back, I gave you a loan with no interest.
It’s time to Pay Up!
I see two kids playing basketball on the street with a milk crate…
I see a woman swimming in the ocean…
I see a man running with his dog in the park…
I hear my phone ring, it’s my mom, she wants to cook chicken and noodles but I’d rather taste competition instead.
I call a gym to get the thrill of a workout session but they have walls up and people screening calls. They also offer a membership fee to play, swim, sweat, and run in circles. I put down the phone, take my clothes off, and decide to go live in the jungle.
I’m an animal.
Hear me roar 🦁 🐯
They look like normal people. They follow good people around watching everything they do and testing them. When you’re asleep they report to the evil one. This is how they populate and try to takeover the world. Their vibes can literally drain the life out of you. They never sleep so beware because when they’re flesh is resting, their soul is nesting in the presence of the beast. They prey off of the innocent and may seem psychologically imbalanced but the truth is they’re actually not. They’re selfish and will do anything to obtain power, it’s their animal instinct to feed off of the weak. When they obtain power, be very careful because they tend to leave a trail of dead bodies along with hurt and neglected people. Some of them are even educated and sitting in elite positions. The most scary part about this story is how they can trap you when you’re alone. Preying on your thoughts to the point in which their voice will try to convince you to commit suicide. This scary story may sound fiction but it can actually prove that there are forces in this world that cannot be explained until witnessed. Forces of evil that people hide from. Heart throbbing paranoia entrapping the minds and hearts of pure thinkers. Leaving innocent babies at their grave and victims burned to feed the beast. They follow you and watch your every move, asking questions to get answers to spread and tarnish any fabric of innocence. Beware, stay on guard, stay close to the light. Stay away from their dwelling places, laced with all kinds of drugs and narcotics. The dark seekers come out at night and plot during the day, for they feed off of innocent blood and they prey off of your dark thoughts. They have a tendency to convince you that you’re just like them. Beware.
A Scary Inclination
I wanted to make people laugh, so me, my mom, my sister, and my dad drove all the way to New York City for a show. I’ve always enjoyed a good joke so I was eager to see what it felt like. I prepared for weeks, this was what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to drink, I just wanted to rehearse and tell a good joke so I could make some people laugh. This was my idea of a good time. I then got on stage only to notice that I had the wrong material for the right crowd. They moved me to the full room in which no one really had been into political jokes so I bombed, but the good thing was that I got a taste of show business. I got to try it out and got a few laughs from the joke delivered by me and the MC who intervened, “Yo dog, you ready to sit down?” This is what he asked after he sat and literally watched me make a fool out of myself.
Holding the microphone tightly, I replied , “Hell nah, I ain’t done with them yet. I at least got to get one laugh.”
The crowd loved that punch line, so I took those little laughs and got the hell out of town. My vision of a huge crowd in some sold out stadium left me to see what the comedy club hopping life was really like and it wasn’t easy.
Once the show was over, the ride home was pretty quiet. I knew my little sister wanted to make fun of me but she stayed quiet. My first time just didn’t go as planned. What a sad first time ever on stage, but I sucked it up and tried again. My second gig was in my hometown, but I was well prepared and me and the audience had a ball. The crowd feedback was awesome. Each show taught me something about being on stage seeing that it was on my bucket list of things to try before I hit my thirties. What I learned the most was that some people can take a good joke and some people can’t. Another thing I learned was that while you’re up there alone spilling out your therapy, whether people laugh or not, you’re never alone on stage, it literally feels like a magical force is telling you what to say. The best punchline usually comes when the person who enjoys seeing you get it off your chest and deliver the honest truth about a very sad situation throws a laughing fit. Comedy 🎭 is just that, you take a bad situation and you turn it into a good joke. The liberation and ability to say what a lot of people are afraid to is spell-bounding but actually helps people realize that life really is a comedy that isn’t funny until you put a comedian in the room to turn it into a joke. Who dare try is the funniest part of all.
“What do we do now General?” Arthur asked.
General Powell gently placed his hand on the soldier’s shoulder, “Son, I’m off duty, call me Powell, and remember, the wars that are the hardest to win are the ones we face everyday, the key to winning is to carry-on. Carry-on son, and let history remind you to make better decisions. Carry-on!”
Look towards the hills from whence cometh your strength, all your help cometh from the lord. I am a jealous God so I’m taking it back. Everything belongs to me…every thought…every crumb from your dinner plate…every genius providing knowledge and food for thought. Ever whore corrupting my prophet’s hearts and minds lifting their untamed snakes.
I gave you the rainbow as my promise and you defiled it, now you must pay, for you have not seen suffering until you’ve met the creator…I alone provide, for if the blind cannot see they can feel? From the feminine males to the masculine women who fail to make sense of the fact that each of their kind equals things out. They too can make the right choice. Cannot a feminine male not be satisfied by a masculine woman. Cannot a mixture of both prove that I am trying to equal things out and make it fair as you request from I am that I am. Be mindful of what you request from me, for I am a just God that hears your prayers but your tainted hearts have made you stubborn; therefore, I must speak through a mediator. They can only see through me. For if the woman cannot give birth, do I still not find a way to provide life? When there is no balance do I not even the scale? Have I not answered the call of the tormented and defiled slaves? End the confusion now. Take your feeble eyes and comprehend what real mercy is, for my winds are as strong as the wings of my Angels that make them blow. Look up at the night sky, for I gave you the stars to fathom my power, you’re just a man and a woman, so take notice of my new wrath that you now comprehend as black, complete darkness, sucking in all light. Figure how such fire can create soot, for it burns.
Only I am that I am can direct it past your ordained space orbiting around the earth.
My new wrath is far from the flood…
My new wrath is far from burning…
My new wrath is…
The Black Hole 🕳
Welcome to my kingdom of internal dark thoughts. When I open my wings that span from one end of the universe to the other, you will be my crowning achievement as a creation that blasphemed me while I am that I am fly across another megalopolis with your galaxy in a marble across my neck.
The Black Hole 🕳
Benita begged her husband for an expensive fur coat, she had to have one, but when he said no, because he couldn’t afford it, all hell broke loose. Benita went crazy and she and her husband argued for days. Benita wanted this particular coat very bad and would do anything to get it. Pleading her case with her husband, who stood his ground, she found out that she had a secret admirer. Once her secret admirer found out her deepest desires, he went out of his way to provide her with the expensive fur coat that she wanted. Forever grateful, Benita decided to file for divorce because her husband couldn’t buy her the fur coat that she so deeply wanted. After her divorce was complete, she fell into a deep relationship with her secret admirer who later became less attracted to her after a few dates. Sadly, Benita found herself alone in a room with her fur coat while also trying to figure out how to manage her depleted savings. The coat that she had so much desired left her alone at a crossroad. Distraught, and filled with regret while sitting in a small hotel room with the TV loud behind her, she turned around and noticed her former husband on the local news. The reporter went on to describe how he had saved his neighbor’s child from a house fire. In deep despair and heartache, Benita soon became homeless with only her fur coat to keep her warm. She even tried to sell it but no one would buy it. Her troubles never ended after she accepted the fur coat as a gift, for she had ate from the cookie jar until there were no more cookies left to eat.
Benita’s Fur Coat
Today’s lesson is learning how the eyes and ears can be fooled.
Is an egg still an egg when it’s baked in a cake?
Is a song still a good song without the instruments?
Listen to the words, are you being brainwashed into your natural carnal nature?
Watch a film, what do you see?
Are you an optimist or a pessimist?
Are you color blinded or did you just speak to someone with a lack of respect because you knew you could get away with it?
Is a cross really a cross or is it a religious symbol that looks similar to an Egyptian Ankh?
Dig deeper, will you eventually find lava or more space?
Reach in and focus closely on what you may be missing if not critically understood, unlock a world of truth only to find a lie.
What are you being programmed to believe? Take your time and awake from your sleep.
Why would someone deprive you of knowledge, are they hiding something, or do they enjoy controlling you?
The art of deception is like a magic trick that blinds you in broad daylight.
Those you hurt and harm could be talking to you while you’re sleeping so why assume that oppression last for ever?
Listen to the child screaming at night, listen…if constantly left alone this child must learn how to survive, if not taken seriously, he or she could become a murderer with no conscience.
Is this why the child yearns for love but chooses to hate?
Will those who steal ever get caught?
Will those in prison ever be set free?
If you tell the truth how will you be treated?
If you obtain knowledge will you not also become a teacher?
Take a second to look closely at the picture…
Take a second to listen to the words…
It’s just feelings, is it really real?
Are you alone?
Did you just accuse the one you love of hurting you?
The artist, singer, photographer, and writer is only sharing with you a feeling. Teaching you a lesson.
He or she may be trying to wake you up… or keep you asleep.
Is life a gift or a curse?
Follow the Art…and you may find truth in what you’re looking for.
If you don’t, someone may claim credit for the masterpiece hidden in plain sight, and run off with the gold only to sell the beauty in which you created with your bare hands.
The Art of Deception
A rotten apple spreads, it stinks, and it’s rotten to the core.
Henry was a righteous man, he was just, but after a while he snapped and vowed to eliminate every rotten apple from his tree.
Everyone around him had become so lazy and stupid that Henry just couldn’t take it anymore.
Enlightened and obsessed with the woke crowd he went in the back yard and set every rotten apple on fire. He then built a gate around his new garden and allowed no one to enter ever again. His garden was purified, spotless, but most of all perfect.
Study, practice, fail, pass, tests, homework, groups, teams, quizzes, the key is to never stop learning.
You can learn from losing, you can learn from winning.
You can even learn from a bad situation.
You can learn when you’re young and even when you’re old.
The most amazing thing about learning is how even when you think you have it all figured out there’s more to learn.
Learning is God’s ultimate lesson in which he teaches us infinite ♾ knowledge and everyday we wakeup unknowingly in his classroom. Some days will be good and some days will be bad. We can choose to believe and we can choose not to, it’s no different from dropping out of school. We have a choice to listen and be taught or lean on our own understanding.
Some classes will be easy and some classes will be hard, but in the end he will judge us.
We may not want to accept it, but he’s teaching us all to be good. He’s always teaching us a lesson and his academic curriculum can never be mastered only imagined because the knowledge and skills learned are invisible. The learning last a lifetime, only to find out that his power to teach is often comprehended the most when we’re alone studying. Studying to learn how to be good. Studying and learning. It never stops.
Before computers I saw flesh right in front of my eyes. The images of natural life I embraced. I communicated with everyone. Now my phone is calling me, my favorite girl is inside of the screen, and I can’t even touch her. The feelings are artificial. The tech virus has even infected my wife, she’s on her phone twenty-four hours a day it seems like. I admit it, we’re both addicted. Arguing over who called who and who got what message. We can’t put down our tech gadgets for one day. Our kids are addicted too. Sending pictures of themselves and body parts to complete strangers. Minute by minute and hour by hour passes and we’re still in front of the screen fulfilling our fantasies and wildest thoughts that enable us to imagine everything that we’ve always desired through a screen. I could be going blind, but it’s too late, the virus has spread everywhere. Emails, text messages and an entire data driven conversation broadcasted for the entire world to hear. Streaming and enough gamma and beta rays to fry the brain. We’re addicted to our phones, we tried to put our technical devices down for one week and suffered from withdrawal. In a complete rage, I drowned my devices in a bowl of water and began holding normal conversations with my wife and kids. We took up painting and began mailing letters again. The tech virus nearly killed us and while we’re outside holding conversations the streets are empty because everyone is online, probably doing their homework and who knows what else. Yesterday I saw a man flip his car over on the highway trying to respond to a text. The programming has us all caught in a web. We’re lost in virtual space.
The Tech Virus
Oh lord, I just felt something snap in my leg. There goes my standout football season. I wonder if they serve snacks on the ambulance ride to the hospital. All of this running around has made me hungry. This football stuff has worn me out, I think I’ll quit and maybe try and enter the spelling bee.
For some reason I can’t let go.
For some reason I don’t understand.
For some reason I care…
I have to go back and save more people, I can still hear them screaming, I can still see them jumping, I confess that I’m traumatized, I confess that I’ve lost my mind trying to figure out why.
For some reason I can’t let go.
For some reason I don’t understand.
For some reason I care…
Communication between King Solomon and I had gone to another level. Our minds began to spin through the wide lengths of space as we both noticed that we were stuck between two worlds. One was real and one was fake. For we both had been shown false help mates but soon realized that they had all been sacrificed before the GOAT, for they’d fell victim to the lie so we didn’t try to save them and instead broke bread and ate. King Solomon was my friend, he was like a father to me, he showed me visions of slaves being tortured and raped only to be rescued by angels. I began to weep seeing my relatives drowning in drug use and alcohol abuse, for they were not happy. In the distance, King Solomon pointed to a false religion that would tangle my thoughts, he also showed me tribes that had stole gold and authentic tunics to secure their wealth. He then opened my eyes to all that I failed to see before. As brothers, we took a walk through the underworld and he gave me a dream.
“This is my father’s brother, a place where souls believe lies and mingle with the thoughts that cannot defeat the light of day. Do not be fooled by your own desires for I have made a way for you to manifest in an abundance of glory,” he said showing me two principles of thought.
I could then hear his wives calling him, but he informed me that meditation was key before he answered them.
“False sacrifices and a false face put on the one who gives us internal thoughts and wisdom has been detected in my temple,” he explained.
Seeing the future, I fell to my knees on a rug made of gold laces.
“Get up my brother, for there is so much more to see,” he said.
In the distance was a hole, one was filled with darkness and one was filled with light.
I will share with you the devil’s riddle,
“A thief that is satisfied only steals to be caught. A woman that blames everyone else for her problems but fails to blame herself will fall in love with three men at the same time and convince them that it’s their fault. Wisdom is like a fashion book with many designs in it leading to a dark colored outfit worn to stay warm. The riddle is simple and one cannot exist without the other, therefore, if you die young or live to be old, in the end the results are not different. Once you figure this out you will find true peace in your heart and you will face your fears when solving the devil’s riddle,” he explained.
Confused, I began to drink out of a golden cup that he provided as he showed me the kingdom that God had prepared for me.
“Do not be afraid brother, for we have walked through the underworld hearing numerous false prophets to get here. This is your inheritance. For death is just another portal into infinite salvation. You must be rejuvenated with the truth,” he said, showing me more.
My cup of wisdom and knowledge began to overflow. This was home for us, our eternal treasure, a kingdom of righteousness. Seeing my people sweating in hard labor after awaking from my dream I gave them fresh water and we sat down to talk together. I solved the devil’s riddle sitting with my people in the hot sun realizing that he was just a character in a never ending story in which all I had to do was close the book and focus on what was right. Hearing my wives calling me, I was not afraid of the laws put in place by man, for brother Solomon had given me the keys to my own Kingdom. Me and my people were free to do as we pleased and the devil was not a character in our book, therefore he didn’t exist in our kingdom.
I almost strangled someone today, I wonder who will test me tomorrow. I’m going to keep chugging along though because at least I have that right. Once again odds are eating away at my thoughts. Will I fall and stumble or will I stand tall through it all? Today, I’ll stand, and Tomorrow, I’ll walk it off. I’m convinced that through it all, I have to stay focused and believe that what I’m doing is beneficial to everyone that does understand. As I look in the mirror channeling my thoughts on strength I see a feather sitting on the bathroom counter from an old hat. Something or someone is with me, at that very moment my mental becomes stronger. The vision is clear, I’m being used for the greater good…I then smile at myself in the mirror and carry-on. I just got a notice that one of my favorite Olympic athletes finished the race with a broken leg—win, lose or draw she finished. What are the odds of that? If she can do it, I can do it.
The day was brand new and the world had almost seemed like it was coming to a complete end. Generals were out to war and amateurs as always were aspiring to be professionals. Here’s a story about Peter and James.
“I learned something today,” Peter said to his friend James.
James had just got done burning books because he’d rather waste his time watching TV.
“What did you learn Peter?” James asked.
“I learned how to publish a book,” Peter replied.
James took the pages from his ashes and blew them into Peter’s face.
“Peter, I’ve sat in one spot watching TV for my entire life doing nothing. Everything I’ve earned, I’ve been given for free. Haven’t you learned yet? When you do nothing it’s much easier because when you decide to do something the world hates you because they didn’t do it the way you did.
In denial Peter sat there and watched his fat friend James burn the book he’d just published and then boastfully sit on his lawn chair laughing. In total rage, Peter threw a fit then told James the truth about himself and they began to fight.
Out of shape, James fell to the ground wheezing begging for help.
Peter sat and watched his friend gasping for air.
“This is bad James, really bad.” Peter kept saying frantically searching for James’s inhaler.
“Peeettteer, hhhhhhuuu, do something,” James said falling to the ground.
Peter couldn’t help but remember how James had just told him to do nothing so he sat there and watched him beg for help until the ambulance came. James nearly killed himself breathing in all of the smoke from the ashes.
At the end of the day James learned his lesson and decided to be more like Peter. He started doing something and accepted the hate, it made him stronger, especially after he nearly died doing nothing.
Four feet wide and two feet high stood the box which held Emma’s inheritance from her great grandmother. Stockings and dresses. She was born into what was considered a heathen culture, but her bloodline traced all the way back to the Hebrew Hittite tribe. Her mother was a prostitute, but Emma had never been touched. She was put up for adoption at the age of 7 and was separated from her sister and brother after being taken in by a rich family. Fairly uneducated before being adopted, Emma, by divine will became obsessed with learning. Living in an age of sin, corruption and disobedience, God began to speak with Emma in her dreams. He told her to go find her real family so he could use her to cleanse the land.
Basking in the warmth of a summer day’s breeze, Emma could feel the sudden energy of pure divine purpose in her veins.
“Emma, I have prepared a way for you and your family, now I need you to find them and teach them all that you have learned,” God explained to Emma in her dream.
“But God, I still feel like I don’t know enough,” Emma replied.
“Be certain of one thing Emma, that with me you can do anything. All you will need is just one book where I am sending you,” God said.
At the ripe age of 18, Emma left the comfort of her foster family and headed to the city where she was born.
She drove 500 miles in obedience to God only to enter a city filled with gang signs and prostitution. An angel disguised as a janitor led her to her family.
“Emma, come with me,” he said escorting her to her sister.
“Who are you?” Emma asked.
“My name is Phoenix. I will take you to your sister and brother, but I’m sorry to tell you that your real mother was killed some years back. Your older sister ended up having to raise your younger brother,” Phoenix explained as he and Emma walked up the stairs of the building housing her family.
The building was filthy, the floors had been covered in old dirty foot tracks and the walls were embedded with graffiti. Emma could barely see the street lights shining through the dirty glass windows.
Approaching apartment 32, Emma turned to ask Phoenix if he had any help cleaning the building but he was gone.
She glanced around the dimly lit hallway and could smell the funk of human waste. Positioning herself to knock on the door she noticed a large rat running across the hallway floor out of the corner of her eye. Knocking, she felt herself filled with anxiety and a lost for words at the very moment her sister opened the door.
“Emma! Oh Emma! You came all this way to see us,” Ester said embracing her sister. Tears of joy fell from their eyes as they hugged.
“Where is Terrance?” Emma asked before he came rushing out of the back room to get a glimpse of his sister.
“You drove here all by yourself?” Terrance couldn’t help but ask noticing her car keys in her hand.
At this very moment two worlds were colliding and a bond that had been broken had somehow mended back together in a matter of days. Emma and her siblings talked for hours catching up. The moment Emma touched down in this small city, God began to use her in so many ways. She founded a school to educate poor inner city youth and with the help of her brother and sister she also founded a home for women caught up in the web of prostitution. It was evident that something divine had been guiding Emma because every time she opened the book that God gave her a change would occur. The book of Emma was a void that could only be filled by her. The magic of it all was that Emma never looked at her people as heathens or a lower part of society, she loved them just as much as they loved her. Every new venture she took to lead her people to a better standard of living was inspired by every instruction written in her book. In this story you see a process because once Emma’s work was done an entire city had been transformed and the Book of Emma became a reality.
Education has no limits, only standards to make the process easier. In Emma’s case she prepared herself with the belief that God was guiding her to create miracles.
There’s alway hope when one baby leaves the jungle and returns home with a book.
The Book of Emma.
It was a late Saturday evening and I had just got done talking to a Bible scholar about King Solomon and how the world needs better people, then I saw her. Her beauty did something to me. It entrapped me. She literally took my thoughts and I became her subject. The complex physical attraction literally had me under a spell. She said three words: “Come with me.”
At that very moment I was at her command, I couldn’t see or feel anything else but her. You can learn a lot from this story because I couldn’t fight the force. It was too strong, she literally had me under her spell. How did I become so important? What did my life mean to the world? I did everything I could to snap out of it but it was too late. The next morning I woke up and took a bullet hole through the head from her husband. It was like I had no self-control. She trapped me physically and blew my mind.
For a moment I felt motivated to write about the end of the world, goblins and death angels, but the truth is that there is new life all around us. The moment you forget this you’ve already lost 90% of the battle. Everyday we awake there’s a new opportunity, a new motivation, and a new way to do something that many thought would never change. Have a good day.
I’ve been in this war for over 40 years. Blood has been shed all over the place. Taxpayer money has been wasted and my enemy is still fighting. If there is a God of war he is teaching me something. My duty is to obey the orders handed down by my superiors for the greater good of my country all of whom I’ve served well. Cover your eyes and ears because I’m going to reveal a darker ruthless part of mankind. I’ve literally seen people die, to ease my own desires I’ve masturbated on several occasions. We’ve also had prostitutes come in and out to please our fleshly cravings. Some soldiers have even had sex with other soldiers. We’re lost out here, it’s hell on earth. Our eyes have been opened and some of us can’t even sleep. These people don’t want us here. We’ve literally witnessed little children stabbing and blowing up other soldiers. We’ve been sent here to die just to occupy and maintain a presence. If you can’t handle this and it’s too much for you to understand, then go eat at your leisure and enjoy your so called freedom while we’re all the way over seas suffering so you can drink cocktails and argue about the next election. On my way back to base I noticed a black flag. In war it means no mercy, while on the other hand the white flag means surrender. It’s evident that these people want to win and they’ll do it by any means necessary. My wife has just filed for divorce and my pleasure has turned into pain. The battlefield is all I know now. I’ll never be the same. The true nature of mankind has overwhelmed me. This is my fifth tour. I’ve been stabbed, spit on and left for dead only to get up every morning to a hot scolding sun. I’ve had to encourage men from every race to believe that they’re fighting for something, I also killed a man today. If there is a God of war he’s taught me a valuable lesson about life, mankind, and how much, I, as a general can take. The pressure is on me and at anytime I can snap. War is dirty, people die and most enemies will do anything to win. For some reason I had a dream that we evacuated and an explosion left a huge crater in the earth. I don’t know what that dream meant but things were very quiet after I awoke. I have to get you to understand what’s going on. We’re dealing in a war game that will never end. We’ve tried everything but somebody has to pay for every little piece of B.S. that has taken place on my watch because if I make it out alive I’m still going to have to suffer. I took down my home flag in my office today and raised my own little black flag. If my dream is a sign from God then maybe he’s telling me to keep fighting for the greater good of my people with no need to fear what’s on the other side because I’ve already tasted a piece of hell here in combat. Evacuating in a helicopter only to return showed me that peace is an illusion that people convince themselves to believe. This is a war that will never end until every enemy is dead and every taxpayer gets a return on their investment. Nothing is working and nothing will work until people can understand what kind of enemy we’re facing. As a general, I’ve come to learn that there is nothing good about war, nothing. When you’ve spent your entire military career preparing for it the enemy makes you stronger. To conclude my handbook, I have to confess that I have to think like a conqueror and I want to believe that people are naturally good, but this war has proved that belief to be wrong. Most people turn to God when they’re suffering and if there is a God of war he has confirmed that. In the end, if I make it out alive, I will ask him for one thing and that is real peace because this is hell on earth. War is not a fun game, and after you play it over and over again the white lines in your brain will eventually make your mind go numb. We all signed up for hell and eventually you will feel it too, because enemies are like evil termites, they are programmed to make you feel their pain. Their victory comes by making you suffer, making you surrender. Stand strong and try not to fall to your knees. They gain strength by seeing you defeated, it’s how they gain their momentum. A general’s life is centered around finding strategic ways to win. In all actuality he or she can never give up.
The General’s Handbook.
My father opened the gate, and I entered. Some say to save someone you first have to walk a mile in their shoes. Well, I had become so addicted to pleasure that I became numb to the fact that I’d been getting nowhere. And here it was, my meeting with the enemy. I took a second to let it sink in, everyone in the nude and a loaded weapon on the floor. I began to cry. I’d become numb to the feeling of pleasure. What force is guiding me? Who is that telling me to stop? I had seen so much pain through my eyes that I yearned to feel good. I needed it. In the end I had to accept that the loaded weapon could not heal me, so I walked away, only to find out that pleasure was getting me nowhere. The pressure to stop broke me. I needed to achieve something. I needed to be a better person. In deep despair, I took the path less chosen.
No air… all I see is darkness, but it’s quiet. I must be dead because I keep floating. I’m floating into the light, the weightlessness feels like complete peace. It almost seems like infinite room, like the possibilities are endless. I must be in heaven, but it feels like space.
I’m in space.
So, you’re saying I don’t have to pay?
What’s the catch?
At that very moment I walked out of the store with a free item.
I didn’t know what to say.
For some reason I felt like I’d just did something wrong, at any other store I would have had to pay up.
My heart felt light. It was like the weight of the world had been lifted off of me.
Just when I thought I’d reached the peak of all humanity I came back to the store the next day and it was shut down, completely gone out of business.
Damn, my favorite store, gone. I guess somebody eventually has to pay.
I began with a steppingstone, then I wet some sand to form a rectangle. When my tower began to take shape, I placed an eye 👁 on the top of my stones in the shape of a 3D triangle. I kept building. Noticing that my hands began to bleed from laying stones, in the distance I noticed a shepherd tending to his sheep. Watching from the top of my pyramid I couldn’t help but notice slaves splitting my seas to get to freedom. I then split myself in half and transformed the left side of my body into a raven and the right side into a dove. I spread my wings and flew away, I saw everything. I was free, the pyramid was done.
I stood fifteen stories high wondering how to win the game.
The pieces were positioned outside of my favor and my odds of winning were slim.
The politician had my power and my tax money, the corner store and grocery store had my nourishments and the justice department had my will.
The doctor had my medicine and the entertainers had my thoughts.
The reverend had my God and the scientists had my genetic blueprint.
The gym had me running in circles and the teacher indoctrinated me.
The bank had my money and the government had my land.
The university’s had my trades and skills so what move could I make?
I had to figure out who was on my team, how could I win this game?
I slide my piece across the ledge fifteen stories high.
Thinking I’d just made a good move I hear my baby daughter crying.
I have no clue who my opponents are and I can hear my wife searching for me. I’m so confused.
Instead of folding, I get off of the ledge and go back into the small apartment to work on being a better father. I decide to play by the rules and read a book to increase my odds of at least breaking even. I wonder if it’s me against the world.
I almost lost the game of reason.
First it was one, then two, and then four. Earl was a sex-a-holic, dope slinging no good woman banger. After ten years of freedom he had a total of 200 babies out of wedlock. The guy was a savage, his child-support bills were well over three million dollars. Through it all he had his ups and downs, some of his kids loved him and some of them hated him. Earl kept doing Earl until he met his son Little Jimmy. Now at age 8, Earl abandoned Jimmy and before he was born, he dropped Jimmy’s mother off at the hospital and left her there to give birth alone. Little Jimmy’s mother never forgave Earl for this and it almost seemed like Earl’s karma would never catch up to him but it did. It was Father’s Day, 1998, and Jimmy had just graduated. Earl took every dime of his drug money and moved down south with his best concubine to try and run away from his past, but all of Earl’s kids were struggling while big daddy Earl somehow kept smoothing his way out of his duties as a father, but there was something about Little Jimmy.
One night when Earl was asleep he had a dream that Little Jimmy came to visit him on Father’s Day. The dream was so real that he woke up sweating. This was how it started. Even Jimmy’s mother knew there was something special about him. Some how he would appear in places out of nowhere but on the Father’s Day of 1998 the thought of Little Jimmy haunted Earl. He was everywhere. When Earl woke up, he was standing over his bed looking down at him. Earl thought he was losing his mind.
“Did you see him?” Earl said to his concubine.
“See what Earl? What are you talking about?” she replied.
Earl then got up to go take a drive in his car but as soon as he opened the door, Little Jimmy was right there.
“Leave me alone, or I’ll kill you,” Earl screamed.
Shortly after seeing Little Jimmy, Earl turned around and saw his baby girl Shea grabbing his leg.
“Daddy will you play with me?” she said while more of Earl’s kids started to appear.
“Oh God! Help me please!” Earl screamed.
Noticing that he had his motorcycle key in his back pocket he quickly ran in his garage, jumped on his bike, and sped out of the driveway, but the voices were getting louder.
“Daddy come and play with us? Help us? Feed us daddy.”
Earl was losing his mind, he lost his handles on his motorcycle and flipped off then landed head first at an abortion clinic. Laying on the ground bloody and a bit broken up he saw his daughter Cee Cee staring out of the front window of the abortion clinic.
“Cee Cee, help me? Come help daddy up,” Earl said as Cee Cee got closer.
“You remember me daddy, do you want to play with me now daddy?” Cee Cee said getting closer.
Getting closer to Earl, her voice began to change. Earl couldn’t move, all of his aborted children latched on to his soul as he found himself tied to a burning stake.
“Cee Cee, what are you doing?” Earl said watching his daughter’s playing with fire.
It’s play time daddy. They then lit the fire and watched their deadbeat father burn at the stake while they sang songs.
The last thing Earl heard while his body burned was the singing and laughing of his children.
“We love you Daddy,” Little Jimmy said as Earl woke up in a cold sweat.
Realizing that it was all a dream, something changed in Earl. His heart grew three fist larger, he now felt obligated to be a better father and a better man. The next morning he called up everyone of his kids and split every dime he had on them to undo his wrongs. He went to his son Timmy’s graduation and he bought little Jimmy a car. He stopped selling drugs and paid every dollar of back child support and opened up risk free investment accounts for all of his kids. Earl was a changed man, he even went to the women who he forced to have abortions and said sorry. For the rest of his life he lived and served at a rescue mission. He died broke, but left a letter for all of his children to read:
I spent the majority of my youth watching people suffer while I lived it up, but I died hoping for a shot at redemption. I cannot undo my wrongs from the past, but I died trying to make the future better for you all. Learn from me and let your dreams guide you to a better world. I’m sorry.
your father Earl.
“What a dirty old man,” Jane said looking at her husband.
As much as she would talk about him she loved her husband John. They had a unique relationship; John was into music and Jane was into exotic photography. She would get a kick out of watching John come home from work, turn on his record player and listen to Whitney Bison. She was John’s favorite singer. He would always smell like alcohol and would sit there and cry like a little baby listening to her. Outside of this, this was all they knew at the peak of their careers. John’s children would get a kick out of watching him and their mother argue but it was all genuine love. His three daughters and four sons didn’t have much but they had each other. It turns out that Jane’s passion for the exotic photography business caught up with her in a bad business deal that got her killed. Every business has its down side but John knew he had to stay strong for his children. His wife had morals but her passion for the arts somehow got her tangled in a web with the wrong people and John dealt with it for years because of his love for his family. With no wife at home, he dreaded the thought of starting over so his daughters ended up doing most of the cooking and cleaning. The men from his generation were used to women having to take care of the home and just like their mother they would watch their father come home from work and fall back in his chair with tears in his eyes listening to Whitney Bison. Back in John’s peak years life was simple and people stayed in their own lane. He hated that his wife had an odd profession but it didn’t defeat her character, she was a great woman. John would always joke around with her about how she was going to rewrite the garden story in Genesis and dreaded the fact that her passion for the purest form of art got her killed.
When John’s wife died his alcoholism got worse. He drank so much that his kids became concerned.
“Daddy, do you love us?” Lana, his older daughter asked as he sat in his dark cold room watching cowboy movies.
John looked at his daughter with his famous crazy face, “Lana, that’s a dumb ass question.”
She laughed, grabbed his basket and left the room.
John’s children knew that there was no changing their father but living in a time where bread winners kept things in motion they knew they had to keep him alive and happy or they would be separated. One night John came home so drunk that his son Billy got upset.
“Dad, you gon kill us and ‘yo self at the same time. You got to slow down,” Billy said.
John being John hugged his son, smiled as he always did when he got drunk and fell down in his chair after turning on his Whitney Bison Record.
“You remind me of ‘yo mother. You can’t fix the world Billy, it’s got to fix its self,” John said.
Billy got upset.
“Dad, I can’t keep livin’ like this. If something happen to you what’s gone happen to us?”
John pointed to his most famous album cover on his momentous wall, “Billy, I’ll say it again, you can’t fix the world, it’s got to fix its self. Jenny Montgomery put the sun on every one of her album covers. Her highest selling song was titled: ‘As long as the sun rises we keep rising’ now take ‘yo ass to bed and let me handle my woes. Iz got a lot on my mind son, too much for ‘yo young self to handle, but I’m ‘gon get you to the finish line. I promise you that.” This was one of the first times Billy, being the youngest, had ever really heard his dad speak his peace, but it meant a lot to Billy, it was real. This was at a time when the world for him at least, almost seemed a bit too much to handle, but for some reason when father John said something, everything was alright.
The good thing was that John kept his promise. He watched everyone of his kids grow up off of his own strength. For years John stayed in that same spot after every hard day at work and never had a bit of education outside of music. His common sense and will to work with every musician was enough. At age 89 on Father’s Day, he, his children, and all of his grandchildren took a family photo and while at the counter paying for the photos John’s youngest daughter Tina saw a naked picture of him and their mother fall out of his wallet.
“Daddy, what the hell is this?” Tina asked, quickly picking up the photo and making sure no one was paying attention to it.
John smiled while gently taking the photo from her and placing it back into his wallet, “That’s me and ‘yo momma when we started our own baby factory that made you and everyone in our photo.”
Tina started laughing, “You a dirty old man.”
John saw her mother in her when she fed him that line, he then paid the camera man and started humming Jenny Montgomery’s song “As long as the sun rise we keep rising” while he and his family continued celebrating Father’s Day.
It was a cold winter night and I could tell by the room temperature that the furnace was having a hard time kicking on.
“Damn, this is just what I needed,” I said to myself, digging deeper into my thoughts for a solution.
To be honest, it almost felt like everything was falling apart, and my wedding was in the morning. It’s a good thing she decided to stay at her mother’s house so we could do it the right way.
“Ahh, thank god, I can feel the heat revving up. I wonder if this could be a sign of me getting cold feet, I mean why get married at age fifty to someone I’ve only been dating for two months?”
Laying in bed alone, these were the inner voices in my head... I had less than nine hours to make a decision. I tossed and turned while also comprehending the fact that if I showed up tomorrow at the wedding I would have to share my bed with someone for the rest of my life.
I could hear my cousin Damion’s voice, “Marriage is all good until five years later...”
It’s now two o’clock in the morning and I’m still awoke thinking about skipping town.
I get up to go to the bathroom to calm down...
“Why is she in such a rush to marry you? She must have something up her sleeve,” I hear my brother James saying over and over again as I face the mirror.
“Maybe I should call the wedding off until the summertime. Who gets married in the winter anyway? God help me! Why am I so nervous?”
Standing in the bathroom shaking, I feel my heart tighten up. I fall to the ground and flatline right before my wedding day.
The next day everyone goes on as usual until they realize that me and the best man are absent.
James knocked on my door for hours then finally gave up. He assumed that I’d somehow been at the church already and while he stood there freezing cold outside of my house he noticed that he didn’t have his cell phone on him. Panicking he took a look at the time on his watch then rushed over to the church thinking that I was already there. Busting into a crowded church noticing that I wasn’t there he stopped in his tracks only to witness a solo bride searching for her groom.
My high blood pressure got the best of me. The thought of marriage killed me before we even tied the knot. What a tragic ending.
Til death do us part.
The Solo Bride.
“You can do it Coco,” William said, watching his best friend play tennis.
Coco loved the game, she even created her very own logo.
Sports kept Coco going and she valued friendship.
She was very into just about every sport and she loved to compete.
“Friendship is important Coco,” William said, opening up the door for his friend.
Once everyone saw William and Coco practice good friendship they soon tried it too.
Friends care, friends share, and always find a reason to build each other up. This is what William and Coco represented.
Through it all, they remained best buddies. William was always there to cheer his friend Coco on, especially when she played tennis, they became the sparkle in everyone’s eye on what good friendship is all about.
Live, learn, grow, and laugh together, be a good friend.
Her power, her speed and her tender voice set her towers above the rest.
“Naomi, can you please come out and talk to me?” I said, banging on the screen door, hoping to hear her tell me about her magnificence.
Shunning me, she ran into her room.
“Naomi, come and talk to me please, how did you become so magnificent?” I said, begging to get a response.
Looking at her strong legs in the magazines, I had to hear about her workout sessions, but the more I asked the more she began to cry.
“Go away!” she said, slamming the door in my face.
Watching her peeking out of the window at me, I fell to one knee and asked for her magnificent hand in marriage.
She quickly closed the curtain and said no.
Her aura, her passion and her magnificence, made me become a better man.
She was so great that I had no choice but to submit to her demands. I felt a tear fall down my face, I was just grateful for the time she gave me to be in her presence.
I walked away and patiently waited for the day she returned.
Naomi the Magnificent.
If I were to reveal to you what really goes on on the battlefield I’d have to include some form of a higher power.
Military life is a very dirty game that has its ups and downs with little margins for error, but once you’re in, you’re in. Even on my bad days I don’t regret my choice, because it’s made me a better person.
My small story is outside of the combat zone, but like most veterans, I am thankful just to be able to get up and see the light of day.
My mental struggle is to continue to motivate and encourage those carrying on the vision of freedom. Although I’m just a small piece of this very complex puzzle, at times the idea may seem cloudy but I have to replay the battle hymns to see the picture clearly so like many, I don’t forget. It’s still real, there are always forces trying to distort this idea. The idea of freedom.
I do not ask for your sympathy, but I am grateful for another chance at life, this was my promise from the doctors while in my down time as a young sailor. To all of my military brothers and sisters who can relate to this simple Memorial Day tribute, the angels of war will guide you.
Brothers and sisters, if you see a light in the sky or hear a calm voice guiding you along the way, they’re not UFOs but I strongly believe that they’re angels of war, and the saddest part about life is that the normal human mind cannot fathom the belief that such a force exist, but there is a promise to mankind that cannot be undone. To every slave, to every prisoner of war, to everyone suffering, the promise is freedom, a chance to spread your wings. A chance to discover a new world. A chance to believe in something greater than this life, especially when you have to overcome. To be honest, it almost seems as though the war is never over.
Carry-on, and let the Angels of war guide you to the promise land or whatever your place of comfort may be. For many it’s just a place called home.
Salute, and try not to forget. 🇺🇸
Thank You for taking the time to read my thoughts.
GM3 West, another lone sailor waiting on a government paycheck.
The mental struggle is no different from a boxing ring. A fighter literally has the fight his or her way out of the corner. Mentally, the negative voices are telling you that you can’t win, but the positive voices are telling you that you can. These voices seem to corner you every day, even when you’re not fighting.
Jab, body shot, then uppercut, and you’re on the run, stuck in a corner.
This is the moment where you have to use your brain, you have to find a way to fight your way out of the corner. Compared to everyday pressure, it feels like the entire world is watching you fight for your life. You feel your endurance fading. Mentally you’re drained, the cost of losing could put you and your whole family out on the street.
“Get out of the corner, dummy!”
You hear a fan scream outrageously.
Somehow an underdog has to eat. You have to beat the odds or face the unemployment line. Even your sparring partner bet against you. The pressure is on and now you’re trapped in the corner.
Somehow, someway, you land an unbelievable uppercut. The power shot rattles your opponent and the crowd jumps to their feet.
“Go for the kill shot! Get him now!”
You hear your trainer scream.
Bam! You deliver the knockout blow.
Your net worth shoots up to $50,000 and there’s no turning back now. Just about everybody you know likes a winner and there’s a pretty good chance that the person you just knocked out is going to want a rematch. Hate it or love it, you’re now a meal ticket, and just like life, you survive to fight another day.
Every champion somehow has to fight their way out of the corner.
I sat my paper down then I saw a screen glowing picture.
I fell down the stairs and got back up only to limp and fall again.
Depression almost got the best of me, but my thoughts saved me and I was determined to climb the tower.
I got to the top and sat there until I thought of something else.
I guess this is the purpose of living.
Exploring and seeing how far your thoughts can take you.
As high as it may seem, the tower goes beyond the clouds.
It goes beyond the depths of space.
It’s thinking until everything fades to black.
The past, present and future...
How high can you climb?
How far can your thoughts take you?
In the end all that’s left is for others to track your thoughts.
It’s a priceless journey, it’s a tower of thoughts.
This child of mine named Judah has a habit of wandering off into the jungle and getting himself into trouble.
“Judah come back home and make holy music with me please so we can save our tribe,” I screamed at him in frustration of how foolish he’d become, but once again he turned away.
My mercy could only last for so long before I poured out my wrath, for I was getting old and tired of my visions from God being stolen away. This became certain to me when I watched someone dear to me drop dead from a drug overdose. I was certain that only a gift from God’s eternal spirit could save my people but something happened over time that turned them away.
Realizing that I could not save the world alone, this was my last call for Judah.
Calling him as loud as I could, I then saw an army with Judah in the distance ready to make holy music to save a dying world.
My heart opened up and I embraced my son as he fell to his knees with me, for he was tired and worn out by the ways of this wicked world in which only the holy sounds of Judah could save. In our reconciliation he grabbed his drum and I sat at my piano, we put an end to the foolishness and began to make good music. Everyone dropped their weapons and began to vibe to our angelic sounds.
Last call for Judah. 🦁
Everyone in Beaver Village lived on a hill and Brian the rebel sat on a log pondering how to defeat his enemies. Everyday he dreaded his life conditions and yearned for a new beginning.
Neither he nor his people had any skills in combat but on his excursion, destined for failure, Brian started to learn about fate and luck. He’d come to realize that it was his only option to escape his circumstances. He and his people were terrible at everything. It’s almost as if they had no escape.
This story may sound odd but as a general on the battlefield sometimes your number one weapon is your brain. With hardly no strong weapons or even depth, Brian started to believe in this new idea of fate and luck. His strategy may sound strange but it made sense. Seeing that the people in his Village were divided on everything and his natives were not brave enough to overcome, his odds of freeing their mind were very slim. Comprehending the fact that his opponents wanted to win and had all of the power, Brian decided to lose. His strategy made sense because of his circumstance, and the simple fact that his soldiers didn’t care about him at all. There just wasn’t any bravery or loyalty. Some of them were even siding with the enemy. Brian struggled with the courage of his people, he literally watched his army work for combatants and do it for free. There enemies didn’t even have to fight because they kept working for them and exchanging every bit of information that they could, not knowing that they were being slowly exterminated. It took one night for Brian to figure out his strategy, while also comprehending the fact that he was all alone in his battle to protect nothing but his life. Here’s how this story ends, when Brian was a child his father also worked for the enemy and in exchange he and his family got to live by the local village dam, all the enemy wanted in return was cheap labor. Everyday Brian was learning about water and how to work the dam because of his fascination of beavers. To make a long story short his strategy was simple, let the cards fall and see where they land, don’t even try. Brian’s enemies had all of the might, firepower, land and even skill. I mean how could he win? If it was his destiny to lead his people and win, then try to lose. Tired and worn out from cutting down trees all day he took a small excursion back to the dam and noticed a fire burning in the distance, now this was no high tech dam but it got the job done for the village people needing the water pressure to push the gears that made things move. Brian tried everything to put out the fire near the dam but failed miserably. After a while it began to spread, everything had been set ablaze and no one knew how the fire even started. Brian watched everybody trying to save themselves in the tiny village filled with trees and wild animals. The dam was near everyone’s camp and the only thing that was not on fire was the water in the dam, so in the midst of being surrounded by his enemies and his people trying to save themselves, he jumped in his small boat and rowed it against the current at the bottom of the small dam. Watching everyone burn to death he continued rowing in his boat. Tired from rowing, he evaluated the odds of what he’d just witnessed. The truth was that he’d been alone and had only one way to win and establish a new beginning. Fate was the only solution that he could come up with to cure the harsh living conditions of he and his people. Watching everything and everyone around him burn to the ground, he stopped rowing and sailed away with the current. The water pushed him to Paradise Valley, where he spent the rest of his days in harmony with new people who embraced him.
The Excursion of Fate
(Each poem, story or piece of literature is edited day to day so please bypass any errors.)
A small ounce of gold for my thoughts please, paid forward with a good deed...
I then delightfully take the microphone to deliver my physical equation...
I hear someone drop a book...
In the distance I see her, but she has no physical clue that she’s naked in a garden filled with scholars and academics until she eats off of a tree filled with knowledge, she then realizes that her eyes are opened...
I kindly give her life the moment she touches me...
Who discovered the Big Bang?
Was it religion or science?
Has science physically destroyed common sense?
Do humans have a purpose or do we just sit still, deceive each other and die?
A piece of physical territory is precious to those with no home.
Whom does the earth belong to? Is it nature’s or is it the creator’s?
Where is he?
Where is she?
Does he or she have the deed?
Did he create humans to destroy his physical planet?
Picture smoke in thin air, opening up gateways to other places when you inhale it...
Bombs killing newborn babies, what religion or holy people does this and then worships at altars?
Guilty to face the creator who will be the judge after this life...
Guilty for these people who have lost their minds...
Living matter splattered into tiny pieces.
Is the earth just a huge bomb ticking, waiting to explode?
In my poetry I see prophets...
I see Egyptian statues with physical exploding noses, drawings on giant horses with no clue of the historical value...
I see Israeli physical holy shrines being blown into a thousand pieces by enemies...
Does it ever end?
I see traffic moving in every direction with no physical thought of what’s really at stake.
Who even cares?
I see a drug dealer looking out for the bottom dollar with drug zombies everywhere...
I see a president’s face on the last and first dollar...
What is physical?
Is it knowing?
Is it seeing?
Or is it the bomb that blows my living flesh into a thousand pieces?
Maybe the person who invented the bomb should’ve kept quiet.
Maybe he should have physically fought for peace.
What was his true ambition?
Was he good or was he evil to reveal the secrets of the universe?
Was it his imagination or his hunger for more?
There’s star dust everywhere...exploding into bigger pieces...
Discovery is never enough for anyone, there always has to be more until there’s nothing left but complete physical silence...
Two triangles in the shape of stars...
Complete darkness and exploding lights...
Where did everybody go?
She then realizes what she has just done and gets kicked out of the garden...
I follow her as we explode again into a billion people...
We all sit and break bread in eternal peace...
The Physical Equation
1. People are jumping out of windows and doors are slamming.
2. Someone yells, “Get on the floor they’re shooting.”
3. You hear uncontrollable screaming and see people scattering.
4. Everything has somehow gone silent and you feel warm blood dripping from your ear.
5. You hear shots being fired but can’t see anyone and the shots seem to be getting closer.
6. If you didn’t before, you start believing in God again because your probability of living is slim.
7. You develop the vision of saving people but you can’t because your life is also in the hands of the person with the weapon.
8. You’re trembling, shaking, and feel uncontrollable anxiety.
Believe in God but to look a goddess in the eyes when you’re born is confirmation that God exist.
A mother who travels through the underworld, left alone in the woods to save and give birth to her child.
Through the journey of fire and flames, through the pits of hell to be born in a human vessel to make sure her child makes it through this life.
She spreads her wings...
She saves us...
Mom, the Superhero.
May God show mercy to all children who have to travel through this life without the guiding light of a good mother.
Her compassion endures forever, for she knows the will of those forces which are unknown to the common man.
For she feels the spirit of truth and only lies to protect her children.
She is aware when there is hope and only leaves us in a place of security so that our world is made better.
Even if abandoned, the truth is that mom knows the world.
Mom, the Superhero.
A mother knows her children, she names them in hopes that he or she will meet her expectations.
For those mothers who are scarred and broken, another mother steps in and guides them through the darkness.
A mother faces off against the forces of evil over a million times until her job on earth is done.
She provides time, space and has a built in home.
She provides milk and love to enrich the human soul for if she doesn’t, she’s lost.
May God have mercy on the child without the guiding light of a mother.
And when our journey is complete my friends, word on the street is that it will be up to mom to allow us into the gates with the rest of our bloodline.
I’ll say it again, she travels through the depths of hell and the underworld to give us life, she saves us from the pit of hell so we may be welcomed where we belong.
Her mercy gives us hope for a second chance.
When she is left for dead, she finds her way.
When she is forgotten, she makes a statement for other lost moms to remember.
If she makes a mistake, she tries, then tries again.
Mother knows best, and if she doesn’t then let God’s will be done.
Her words are everlasting...
They provide strength in times of heartache and sorrow.
She gives us a chance at life...
Only her grace can save us...
Mom, the Superhero.
She saves the day...then the sun 🌞 comes out.😊