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On the Head of a Pin ~ Friday, February 6, 2026

You told me never to change, so I am only eighteen years old for forty years understand this life is a curse, unstuck tucked in, under the covers, little lamb only I grew wiser, so, so sorry leave me to my sorrow, so full of tears despite such happiness, such a dumb fuck makes his way, full of luck, sincerity effaces the ego without worry negate the past, eyes cast downward, too hard ego creates sorrow and suffering visions of past and future, a blank card ego relates horror as buffering reverse psychology, austerity torments within spirituality ordinary people understand faith characters in a book play as actors how could you know substantiality adverse to ideas of the Universe nothing but an analogy, a wraith given the keys to the kingdom, factors emerge as conditions, circumstances surface as brutal facts, can we rehearse only the final scene, the audience I observe has no clue, if their surprise absorbs the narrative, this much I sense makes perfect sense,...
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The Inscrutable Vagaries of Love ~ Thursday, February 5, 2026

All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” ― Worstward Ho ― Samuel Beckett The Inscrutable Vagaries of Love Test after test, I fail, the point being...true love is a myth for others how then was I to know, was I supposed to know how it feels, so alone each month, each week, each day, no better, up and down, as the pendulum swings invest in family with time and energy, but nobody bothers nobody has the time or energy to care, I look back and I cry suck it up, people die and we move on as if a dog, given a bone creates such a focus to forget all sorrow, angels without their wings receive and deliver letters and packages, messages from beyond until understanding faces a paradox, I was supposed to try try harder, fail better, I was supposed to know that my mom will die soon as old as Jesus Christ, someone else, I believe in whom I have no faith babble from the pulpit, but I digress, tangent, a toe in a lagoon let...
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Your Sister Has No Ass ~ Wednesday, February 4, 2026

Hi, I am the author of the book they forced you to read for English class in hindsight, I offer an apology from the bottom of my heart I cannot imagine your misfortune to skim and not enjoy this work arguably, it is my best work but I say that talking out my ass maybe you would prefer to fuck the girl next door or play video games trust me, I was a kid once, too, back in the day, lovemaking is an art however, if rabbits can do it, so can you, you're young, don't be a jerk egregious as it sounds, I am not Pacino, I feel too old to fuck authority means less when power is water through a sieve, set in frames understanding movies better than stupid books, I see why you like sports time spent out on the pitch with mates and supporters, better than robbing banks hopelessly in love with Amanda in London, the skirts on tennis courts ordinary women, they pay you attention, as you enter think tanks restless for excitement, you take up skydiving, four-leafed clover for luck ...
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Go! ~ Monday, February 2, 2026

Do people not get it, the why to life Despite a strange childhood, moving from place to place, no time to settle down ordinary people come and go, come and go, no one around for long perhaps my parents seemed like escaped criminals from behind prison walls everyone comes and goes in this world and beyond, this circus has one clown only one clown, a child, the boy cannot but cry, he makes his parents proud people do not get it, the why to life is love, the how in life is wrong long ago in Goa, from Alto Porvorim, my grandmother, her goals eclipsed by her marriage to my brother's dad's dad, who died when he was young no, not his dad, our dad, we are, of course, siblings, unless behind a cloud obscured from conception, the reason why distance becomes a central theme take family as myth, the House of Atreus, with Tántalos to start generations depart from history, take part in the mundane grand scheme egocentric leaders acting as hēgemōn know how to throw a dart tra...
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Delusions of Grandeur ~ Wednesday, January 28, 2026

“If a child is isolated or neglected and they never develop a real connectedness to others and what they’re feeling, it becomes more and more difficult to internalize and process those experiences later in life.” ~ Psychologist Ramone Ford, PhD --- Because I did not choose my family except no one gets to choose their birthright clearly, my issues stem from my childhood anti-social, a lack of empathy understanding the feelings of others suffering from emotions held too tight explanations come much too late, no good I am a broken man, a tortured child destroyed by fathers, mothers, and brothers if each person exhibits diamond mind describe facets of personality no one sees the future, we are all blind only a few have capability to see beyond the present, what is wild choice appears metaphysical, to choose how to decide between different options of course, before conception, no one knows or perhaps, everything is a blown fuse sabotaged for a reason from the start e...
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The Brandon Johnson Express ~ Wednesday, January 28, 2026

« Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate » They say, everyone is in the same boat how all living beings on this planet embark on the way, and, in their own way yes, in outer space does this life raft float survival on the blue marble is hard at times, pointless, even if you can get yes, laid from time to time, people, they say each day, ride CTA without a clue visions of rough sleepers in the train yard each day, the mayor is no greater than reality dictates, in this motel yes, half-naked homeless bums use the can only, with no toilets, how train cars smell no one makes a fuss, while eyes look askew each day, the Red Line is The Inferno inside, Virgil and Dante sit and read surrounded by poverty in this hell inside, two shades read about Salerno nine circles from Ninety-Fifth to Howard two shades, undead, take the train, serve and lead how they appear unbothered by the smell each day, I see dead people ride the train suck it up, never let on, you, coward ...
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The Bearer of Ritual Objects ~ Sunday, January 25, 2026

Alea iacta est My ex-wife spoke little about her past yet, she was interested in my life exactly what she liked was my last name xenophilia, on the whole, to last waits, naturally, to allow for change in the art of marriage, carry a knife for cutting boxes at the bookstore, shame everything must come to an end, no good such is life, I went away to arrange perhaps, my affairs or my state of mind order and organization, I seek kindness, my depression, a yoke I find expresses the horror found in the weak life is unfair to some, some wear a hood in this world, recognition means money titled and privileged, as in my surname to marry into royalty, a wedge literally placed between us, funny exactly why she kept my last name, work as her professional work name, the shame blame and pointless name-calling game, to hedge our bets on principles, ego, or wealth underlying the desire, as a quirk to revert back to her maiden name, heard how could I be less petty, let it go e...
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