Road Rage. Responsible Drivers Beware.




No Point of Return. The road ahead was pure determination.

Self. Destiny. Nothing else mattered.

Pedestrians and all moving mechanisms yielded to the force moving recklessly.

Red ignited anxiety and anger.

Yellow was never transparent.

Green levitated confidence and dominion over the grid.

This ownership was not contagious nor was it entertaining.

The deadline was near.

No being would care.

Lack of time management sparked fear.

Everyone in the sphere had to witness self shifting gears on the journey of asperity.





TO Love and BE LOVED!


Love isn’t complete bliss and it’s definitely not a PEACE OF MIND.

Love has no rules or codes. It’s limitless like the free radicals that roam throughout the universe. Over the years I have come to an understanding that LOVE isn’t some card game you play when you want attention or social acceptance from your peers. Nor is love what you can provide below the waist line to your significant other. The breeding aspects of love is the gift. Love for me in a relationship is passion. Not just the desiring elements of passion, but the trail of sacrifices and suffering two individuals will make on the journey of love. To put things in perspective, you don’t need to be in a monogamous relationship to experience the elements of love. Love many, be loved by many, love what you do, and LOVE YOU! We all were made out of love and in return will naturally transmit love. Your reflection will glow before your eyes. Whether it’s a dark and cold love or a bright and warm love. Love is the root of all behavior. Feast on love EVERYDAY everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day! 😉

Stuck in TranZit

Stuck in TranZit

Family time can be limited for the wanderer. In the midst of familiar, ones eye begins to drift into the past. In tranZit, one dances around the darkness, grabbing the festive moments of joy and youth. The seeker hallucinates and tries to live. The apparition of the force is not yet discovered.

No awareness for the dreamer.
Relativity of time is lost.
No observers of this experience.

The notorious city of the North does not captivate the uncertain. Paradise fades, the routine of everyday chaos prevails. The mirror of death has lost its reflection. Self has been removed. The purpose has grown to be greater than ones comprehension. All matter stops. The expansion of thought has reached its magnitude.

No Dreamers
No Journeys
No Discovery

Complete silence. Stuck in tranZit.

Say Uncle!

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Mercy, laughed the Uncle.

Mercy for their continued happiness, kindness and love. The cold can sicken even the healthiest. This past Christmastide has drowned the memories of every negative experience in 2014. Grateful of the living and sharing of healthy conversation. As well as the simplified moments amongst family. It is true, “No greater gift is there than love.” I have laughed excessively and invested my time wisely over the past few weeks.

Happy New Beginnings Bloggers!

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Alcoholism: do we make it bigger than it is?

lol @ “Because tomorrow you are going to go back to celery sticks and sadness.” – Allie Holbrook

I agree with your thoughts on “Alcoholism: do we make it bigger than it is?” Years ago I use to think that alcoholism was just horseplay for people to get out of certain situations and to gain people forgiveness. How could any sane being not say NO to drinking or any drug, when it could possibly end life. As humans, we naturally become dependent on even the simplest things. How could any sane being insist on using their mobile electronic device when driving? It’s the elements those dependecies bring: Peace, Freedom, Love and Happiness. Even if their momentarily, we desire these elements naturally. You are absolutely right, we should gain control and not give these dependencies power over our lives. Raising self awareness is one of the keys to stripping away the power from these dependencies. Thanks for sharing your experience. -Kiambe Hilliard

And Everything Afterwards

The other reason I’ve been quiet these last couple of weeks is that I’ve been sick.  It was one of those illnesses that likes to duck and weave; it started as a sore throat, turned into something flu-like and then refused to go down for the count and turned itself into bronchiolitis.

Well into the second week, and exhausted from waking myself up coughing ten times a night, I decided to throw some medication at the problem.  I’ve never been much for taking medicine; I tell LH that this is because I like to ‘listen to my body when it tells me I need rest, not ‘soldier on” but maybe it’s just that most medications say don’t mix with alcohol, who knows.

Anyway, this time around I went and bought a bottle of cough syrup and some other preparations.  I took the first dose just after lunch; an hour later, driving…

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Lucid Dreaming


It’s a beautiful Sabbath morning and I run on the wet border line of a quondam free nation.

There is an erroneous sound latched to the lower part of my brain. My eye lashes are too heavy for my eyelids, making my vision blurry. My feet and hands are immobilized. I want to stop running but my frontal lobe is clouded with bogus perceptions.

I am running without a known and vivid purpose. Time isn’t of the essence now. My vitality grows stronger the further I run away from this erroneous sound that is now my only resistance. In a split second I am in a kitchen, laying on top of a long wooden table. Fluids are racing down my neck, passing my chest, and down to the sides of my rib cage. The floors are grumbling, doors keep opening and closing, and my eyeballs are moving rapidly.

Yet, I am a lone wolf with this sound; which is now pinching my eardrum. The sound of urgency, the sound of reason, and the sound of pain. I try to move but I can’t. The warmness of this bondage has put me a state of bliss. I am now infatuated with mendacity and would rather lay here spirited.

What is this sound that my body has become one with? I transfer the remains of my vital force to this sound and have formed a precise conscience. It’s now clear to me that I am dreaming.

Monday morning…. I have overslept and now late for work.


Making use of the selfiSH YOU.

You are putting the last piece together.

You begin to realize that you two are not compatible. The imagination is at sea.

You have exhausted all of your options. You break the puzzle. Compromised, rationalized, and justified long enough.

You throw all the pieces up into the air, in hopes to scatter the memories.

You choose.

You want to put water to the silent flames. The fire isn’t enchanting as afore. Not even their bel-esprit could sustain the now wavy flames. Its’ flow of motion has superseded. The pieces to the puzzle are burnt away.

You walk.


You enter the unlocked car. You reach for your keys in a familiar pocket, only to find one remaining piece of the puzzle.

You are baffled, but you continue to make use of YOU in each stanza of your life.