I sit at an empty table. Empty, save for a quarter inch Of cold coffee.
Sure, go ahead, call her just a voice in a tube, WRONG ... This is love, man ...
I sat on the dock early each day. A few fish broke the surface leaving ripples behind.
The Birds are singing...
Nothing lasts forever. Is love so potent for knowing it is fleeting or for wanting it to last?
Sometime story mimics reality, but not often.
Living in your own private Hollywood turns life into a movie filled with great disappointments.
From disaster we seek posttraumatic growth. Is positive growth possible from traumatic experiences such as accidents, catastrophes, illnesses, & other major stressors?
Praising the Quiet Quitters & Slackers because if the only intent of a job is to make money to survive, modern civilization truly sucks.
Healthy Truth & Diet Bullshit