Never Signing Off

Spoken word poetry... This is what I plan to do with my collection of lyrics, since I have no musical talent. I only care about getting the words out.

  Chapter 3 The Silence Is Killing Me I'm in the kitchen, making dinner. Hunter is leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, watching me, like I care. He's wearing faded denim jeans, hanging on his protruding hips. He's not trying to cock them the way that he is, but it's his default stance. His arms are crossed over his chest, wrinkling the aging sweatshirt he's wearing. He doesn't ask me where I went last night. I get the feeling he's waiting for me to offer the information, but I won't. I doubt he cares anyway. It may be curiosity, but it's not concern. He stopped caring a long time ago. I'm not delusional enough to think otherwise. He's got his eyes glued to the kitchen floor, like he's waiting for something to move the tiles and break him out of this world. I didn't expect him home until well after dinner, but I thought it would be nice to make him something to eat anyway. I used to do that whenever he was coming hom...

  Chapter 2 The Morning After I wake up, feeling drained of all my energy. I realize I'm laying on a phone and figure I forgot mine in the bed last night. So I pull it out from underneath me, letting out a content sigh. I don't remember much about last night. I think after Hunter went to bed, I busied myself on my computer. I remember heading to the bathroom for a glass of water. Each of my steps felt like walking on clouds. It was like I was floating away from myself. I managed to find the edge of the bed and pull myself into the sheets. Languid. Defeated. It's all a blur from there. I press my hand into the bed to try and get balance. But I feel around and realize there is more than one phone. I'm on top of what feels like a phone graveyard. A pile of phones that don't belong to me. But that's not the only thing that's strange about this bed. It doesn't feel right. It smells worse. It's full. My hand finds the body laying beside mine. It's...

  Chapter 1 A Lonely Introduction There's a purple glow illuminating my work space. It's casting a shadow, though only slightly, over my shoulder. The way it's reflecting off the mirrored dresser lights up the whole room. Suddenly, I catch my reflection in the whiteboard calendar that sits beside the bed. I see the magnet on the date. I use a magnet to tell me what day it is because I'm too scatterbrained to circle the date, never remembering to circle the following date or erase the last. Forgetting to move time ahead. This way, pulling the magnet is the easiest way to keep track of the hours rolling into days. Pushing the magnet into the empty squares that should be filled with assignments. I've got post-it notes on every corner, some scattered across the board. These are goals. Mocking me. Things I intend to accomplish this month. But, it's the end of the month and all the pieces of paper scatter the empty white squares. Reminders. The things I need to s...

UPDATE: YOU'RE GETTING ONE DAY AT A TIME THROUGHOUT JULY/AUGUST/SEPTEMBER Because I've never cared about the monetary value of anything, I'm going to be sharing my autobiography throughout the summer. Much like my other books, it will have a dedicated page that can be found on the menu.  There is no point in writing text that will never be seen... I have a second autobiography that was written as a time capsule project for myself. I'm going to combine these two books and give you an edited version. I have to edit them before posting because I didn't bother with censorship or changing the names. The memoir mentions very few people by name; The keepsake book mentions everyone in vivid detail. I'd never share that kind of information. I made damn sure when I wrote The Series that I was not using any identifying descriptors. I only use the first names, then change them to random names when I'm finished writing. I CANNOT post the series online. It will only be av...

I'm sharing this movie. The particularly interesting segment is "Chess" - which suggests a way that human beings are going to be able to beat AI when the ultimate challenge comes. We have one thing the machines can never take away from us and that is what makes us human beings.  Emotions .  Additionally, if you're interested in hurting the way your brain works, I also recommend watching (they are all horror movies): Constantine (2005) The Cell (2000) Evolution (2001) Feardotcom (2002) Final Destination 1&2 (2000 & 2003) The Butterfly Effect (2004) Tokyo Gore Police (2009) R.I.P. to Yoshihiro Nishimura - The world has lost a true fucking visionary . 

I hate it when you face the wall and refuse to talk. I hate when you wake me up when you go for your 6 am walk. I hate the way you're always intentionally singing off key. But I love how you rearranged your entire life for me. I love how many things I've only done because of you. I love the way you held my hand and always saw it through. I love how brave you've been, even when everything went wrong. I love that it's because of you that I've become so strong. I hate the armor that you built having to deal with damage from me. I hate all the obvious abuse that I was too blind to see. I hate the way sometimes there's a bitterness in your voice, But I love when you remind me you've always had a choice. I love that you never hesitate when I ask you if it's changed. I love that you're so confident about making the same mistakes. I love that it never bothers you what other people say. I love how fucking strong you are, I'm always amazed. I hate that you...