Broken Thoughts… Tired Of Waiting…

Taking eight more hours of my life
Lifeless spider crawls across my skin
Been dead inside for so long
Forgot what it meant to live at all
Taking each moment as it comes
Losing track of each day
Is it Tuesday or Sunday?
Does it even matter anymore?
Building a nest of dead things in my heart
Thoughts and memories I want to forget
Burned in my mind, across my skin
Feel everything and nothing all the same
Strapping myself to the stake
Living a life without complaint
In death maybe I could be free
Maybe more of the same
Too much doubt in everything
Moving on, where it leads all the same
Outcomes and differences are for those
Who have nothing to lose

If you concern yourself with other people’s problems… They are no longer their problems…

Counting the minutes until the end
Running numbers inside my head
Roaming clock of gunshots in the distance
Loud noises to prove I’m still here
Endless ideas to hold me under
Went in early the day that I died
Only to know I’ve been here before
Thoughts written out in tiny sentences
Short little ideas I live out
Living was an ideas I couldn’t comprehend
Dying seemed too easy to be the plan
Stuck somewhere in between complaining
Counting the minutes until this is all over
Don’t rush me I’ve already skipped ahead
Pushing myself beyond limits
Burning the candle at both ends?
Try doused in gasoline

Smashing myself against the glass…

Desperately trying to hang on
Fingers clenched to the side of it all
If a dream doesn’t last
Is it a nightmare or the end?
Some days are better
Today is not one of them
Running in the night
Chasing darkness
Desperately trying to hang on
To this dream I created in my head
Never had another choice
They say we have a purpose, do we?
They say we make our own future, do we?
They say so much shit
Infecting and rotting my brain
I miss the days when nothing I said meant anything
Step after step, can’t turn back
All for nothing, all that I have become
What was the point of this?
If for nothing at all
Tired of waiting, tired of even caring
Drain my own blood and it wasn’t enough
Running from the demon, chasing the dark
Running from myself all along
Where did I really think I was going
With myself tagging along
There never was no dream, no army, no wall
Only me, only my own demons to conquer
Been so blind, so misguided for too long
Known the answer for too long
A dream isn’t an idea
A nightmare or a choice
Something we are born with
Something we must do, see to the end
A battle between good and evil
Right and wrong
Heaven and Hell
A battle that never mattered at all
The dream is me
The darkness is me
The demon is me
Need to shut up and enjoy the ride
Need to quit waiting
Quit complaining and enjoy the life I was given
The one I created
The one I’ve always wanted
Limits are for the ones too scared to look past them
The ones I have placed upon myself
New dawn rises, where I stand
Is where I chose to be
Suffer or survive
It is all on me

Well that got intense… for me at least… talked out a lot of thoughts out of my head… talked myself off a ledge… need to stop feeling sorry for myself… stop feeling like I’m not good enough to do this… all of this… spent too much of my life doubting myself… hurting myself… pretending I wasn’t… no one cares and maybe they shouldn’t… no where is it written that they should… reading between the lines only get you stuck between two ideas…

Been stuck there for a very long time… stuck in my head… now that I’ve stepped out… where do I go?… what is the path?… what is the goal?.. spent so much time thinking this would get better… this would all heal itself… missing all the better around me… the hope I thought I lost… has been standing next to me all along… locked away by my own selfishness… by my own insecurities… some of you have seen into the window of my heart… between the bars… but I haven’t until today… all I ever saw was the cage… the limits…

The path is clear… the goal is simple… failing is not an option… nothing is over until it is done… I’m not going anywhere… so strap in… going to come back swinging… as I have always said I would… and you should…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

No Real Idea… Rant…

I don’t have anything to say, but of course this is not my fault. It is probably in some ways yours as I take no blame for anything that are faults of my own. No, I am from a generation that is like every generation before it. Masked and paraded in a way that makes us seem different, but each generation is the same. My generation’s mask seems so obvious. Ripe for the picking. My generation expects to be rewarded for showing up. We deserve the world because we were promised the world. I choose my hours and I expect to reserve the same amount of hours each week dispute quality of work. I’m here am I not? Bow before me and kiss my feet. You can’t replace me with a robot. Not yet at least but until you do. Know that I am in charge. Glad I could be the one to inform you. Don’t make me get my mother on the phone. She will only say what I’ve been told all this time. Don’t worry I won’t call her unless I have to. A weapon I keep in my back pocket. A weapon that has no repercussions but I know I can use. This is only the start of what I deserve, what I expect from this life. Outside of work I expect much greater things. I know I deserve a mansion full of food and a car that does zero to sixty in less than ten seconds and a phone blazing fast phone and a TV bigger than a wall and I deserve these things because I exist in this world. I need unlimited connection to this world I have no real knowledge about. If these small demands. No if these basic necessities of life aren’t met so help me I’ll have no choice other than to milk a system I had no hand in creating. You may see me as a fat pig begging for more, but no I am nothing more than a small, starving, and dying child. Nothing is not guaranteed as long as it has been on TV. I’m not sure this is right. I’m not sure this is true, but I’m sure at one time or another I’ve done at least one of these to you. Justified in my actions. Justified in my thoughts all I know is it couldn’t have been my fault.

Something very different… I found this buried deep within my files… maybe I should have left it there… but where is the fun in that?… I’m not sure what triggered me to write this in the first place… but upon reading it I was triggered again… I tried to leave it as is… not add anything to it… I’m sure I did though… write something over and over again… it will change…overall though… I think a lot of “us” are treated like this… as a child… sometimes justified… most of the time not… we get grouped up in this group… I believe that is where this stems from…

Hard to say when it was written almost a decade ago… I have a lot of notes and files… saved up of course… in case I don’t have anything real to say… : )

Oddly enough… I do find myself having this stupid debate about generations… more than anyone should… the best argument of course is that we are lazy… don’t know anything about hard work… expect so much… blah… blah… blah… truth is yes… with each passing generation we have become all of those things because we are advancing… each generation rewrites the term “hard work”… as it should… each previous generation defines “laziness”…

Because… “Do you know what I had to do for insert something“… “Do you know what it took to get insert something“… “Yes, grandpa… You had to walk eight miles up hill because apparently you grew up on a mountain… We have electric scooters for that now… no one has time to be walking”…

That was a weird paragraph… but you get the point… hopefully… I’m to lazy to reread it again… I never said none of it was true… losing the point… wandering off… it shouldn’t be news… but it is… we are no lazier than the last generation… unless you are talking about this new generation because…. it is sad really… my daughter is too lazy to even finish the YouTube video… she expects everything to run off an app… and apparently if we don’t have something/ she breaks something… it’s okay… “You can buy another one”… Hands me my phone… fucking Amazon…

Speaking of… Books now available in paperback and digital on Amazon… In case my daughter broke yours… I promises that the sentence structure… makes way more sense than this…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Chewing On Glass Presents… Keep It To Yourself…

“I tried to quit smoking recently and it didn’t go well. Go well is a bit of an understatement really. In the aftermath though I realized a few things about myself. Turns out I wasn’t addicted to smoking or some oral fixation, which sounds like I will suck on anything pointed at my face by the way. No, the reason I can’t stop inhaling dried leaves laced with additives and chemicals is because I am addicted to a much darker thought. I am addicted to the thought of death. Even if it is a slow drawn out death. One filled with hacking and an overall weathering of my body as I watch myself slowly extinguish like the very thing I love. I am fixated on the thought of death to just stop myself from killing myself. Does that make sense? In some ways we are self-destructive.  That isn’t a new idea in this world. Some of us shoot shit into our veins. Others barrel down the road in hopes that a child doesn’t pop up in a school zone. I put something to my lips and take a deep breath. We as humans are addicted to destroying ourselves. On purpose or by circumstance we can’t give it up. I can’t think of one thing that I do that isn’t killing me in some way. Which may be a good reason to give up one that I know will, but why? What’s really in it for me? Life always ends in the same whether we want it to or not. Right or wrong all we have in life is faith that we are doing what is best for ourselves even if it is not. Our judgements and our thoughts are ours, but sometimes there is no need to express every last one. The mind is a terrible thing to waste and sometimes hearing a piece of it can be too much to handle. Opinions maybe like assholes and everyone’s got one, but it doesn’t mean we want to hear them,” I spill out. “Yes, these are all valuable points Layne, but what were you thinking about at the time?” The lady with the clip board asks me. “I prefer Ambrose,” I inform her. “My apologies Ambrose, but please answer the question,” she says in a way that lets me know that she doesn’t care. This is another job. Another moron she has to deal with. “Those were my exact thoughts give or take a few on the spot additions. I tend to fixate on an idea and kind of “black out” or chew on that idea for a while. Well until something else pisses me off or annoys me. Then I switch to that one,” I ramble on. She give me a look that I have seen before. Everyone gives me that look whenever I try to explain myself.  Same look just before they roll their eyes.

“Those were your exact thoughts when you were,” she pauses to flip through some papers on her clipboard. “Ah yes, here we are,” she finally says before turning the clipboard towards me. She shows me a picture of the aftermath of my actions. I try to not look at the picture, but when it is basically shoved in your face it is hard to look away. “Those were your thoughts when you did this?” She asks again. I fidget against the restraints they have me in, “I mean give or take. Yeah that is what I was thinking about.” She turn the clipboard back to herself and flips back to where she left off.  “How does it make you feel doing what you did to that innocent lady?” she asks me. “Well it doesn’t make me feel good, but let’s not throw around the word innocent so loosely. I mean if you would have heard what she had to say and the way she was saying it. My actions might almost seem justified. I mean in the right circle,” I try to joke. “Justified? This isn’t a joke Mr. Ambrose. I’d hardly call decapitating a defenseless woman in front of her children justified because she was simply informing you about the harm you were doing to yourself,” she says all butt hurt. “Words, words, words it is all about how you say them. That’s the thing about perception. I’ll tell you one thing. Those children learned a valuable lesson that day,” I say in a less playful tone. “What possible lesson could those poor children have learned from you that day?” She asks with fire burning in her eyes. “Besides the obvious? Those kids learned that sticks and stone will hurt them, but words will surely kill me,” I let off a dark sinister laugh.

Horrified the doctor gets up from her chair. “You are sick Layne Ambrose,” the doctor tries to say over all of my laughing. “You haven’t been paying attention,” I say in a low tone between all the laughing. She stares at me. Puzzled as I leap at her from across the coffee table. Dislocating my thumb before I leaped at her I knock her to the floor. I sit on top of her as she tries to fight me off. She isn’t strong enough to get me off of her. I pop my arm thumb back into socket and grab the pen the lays next to us. “Help,” she screams. “Help me,” she struggles to say as I put my hand on her throat. “Someone,” she fights to say as I stab the pen into her neck over and over again. She slowly stops fighting me, but I can see the life still left in her eyes. I release my hand from her throat as more blood rushes from her wound. A large hole in the side of her neck. “You think I am sick?” I ask her. “You think? Maybe the next one will be smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves,” I get up off of her and head back towards my chair. “I think we are going to need some help in here,” I shout as loud as I can. “This one seems to be leaking.”

So if you remember last year I tried to do this whole insane asylum story arc?… When There Is No More Room….  This story was actually an out take of that story… well it was supposed to be the catalyst to the doctor character getting the big job… very early on idea… because eventually I decided to make that whole story pretty much take place in the past… so me being a live in the 50’s is a bit of stretch… so why am I in the story?… that seems weird… and it is… but it also isn’t… even before No More Room

So.. so.. long ago… in another galaxy…  I had this other idea for a novel… I still might do it… but even after all these years I still haven’t come up with a way to not make me seem like a self-centered asshole… which I am but it doesn’t have to be so obvious… the idea any way was to create a vast network of short stories that all involved me in some way… so this one… another that takes place in outer space… where one of the characters drops a line like… “Have you heard about what’s going on down there?  Have you heard about Layne Ambrose?”… all different genres… all different stories… all involving me…

Yeah… let that soak in… it is a dumb ass idea… but early on… it seemed like the coolest idea ever… whenever you start something new… ideas seem easy to come by… not good ideas… or even great ones… those take years… and that is what I learned in all the years that I have been writing… this was a one off story I wanted to share… give you a taste of what could have been… and will most likely never be… you didn’t ask for it… but you are more than welcome….

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Something Different… Q & A… 3… Digging Up The Dead…

We are playing The Ungame one last time this cycle… I pick six random ass questions from the stack… and away we go…

Turn 1… If You Were Convinced That Reincarnation Was A Fact, How Would You Like To Come Back?

No real need to convince me of reincarnation… fingers crossed that all of this is to come back once again… who wants to only live one life… from one perspective?… boring… This one is pretty easy for me… I would want to come back as a bird… unsure what bird though… being a penguin would be amazing… gliding through the endless ocean… dodging death at every turn… living in the cold… but I would want the ability to fly high above the earth… or to be able to fly at all…see everything in a way I could never in this life time… go anywhere my body could take me… not have to live in the restraints of a society I was born into…

To me being a bird means freedom… freedom to do whatever it is that you want… being any animal seems to be that way… but knowing life I’m sure that we are all stuck in some sort of cage…

Turn 2… Complete The Statement; “One Thing I Missed During My Childhood Was…”

Hmm… I’d have to say I was pretty lucky… sure maybe I could have used a Dad… didn’t but maybe I could have… could have spent more time with my extended family… didn’t but oh well… I wouldn’t really say I missed anything because it is hard to know what you missed if you didn’t know about it… everything could go one way or another… and I’m pretty content on how my life turned out… if I had to pick something though… I would say the sense of home…

I move around a lot as a child… and even into my young adulthood… which is something that is actually hard to complain about… I’ve seen and lived in place that some people have dreamed of living or seeing… some people have worked their whole lives to be able to do what I had the opportunity to do… so I’m not going to go on some long rant about how I missed all this shit I didn’t know about… but sometimes I get jealous of others… that didn’t go anywhere… that idea that no matter where they go in this world… they can always go home…

That is a pretty strong… comforting feeling… I only have one place out of all the places that I have lived that I consider “home”… and I can never go back to that place… it was a time and place I can never get back too… maybe that is how it is for others and I don’t know… or maybe it isn’t… one of life’s many mysteries…

Turn 3… What Makes You Laugh?

haha… some dark ass shit… my line for comedy is pretty thin… would I laugh at my own mothers death?… maybe… what’s the joke?… I tend to not get so offended by what people say… because people say a lot of shit… an ungodly amount of shit really… and I fit right into that… maybe it is from being ugly… being bullied as a child… but it takes a lot for me to get angry rather than laugh… so much so that I get in “trouble” for just saying whatever in person… I tend to not think about what it is that I am saying… or who I am saying it to… and sometimes… I may or not have crossed a few lines…

Things that make me laugh… murder… serial killers… missed placed words… miss placed actions… new age rappers names… death… life… race… humanity… dogs… cats… fail videos… too much man ass in a movie or show… sex… stupidity… myself… my daughter… people trying to hard… slapstick… comments… and stupid shit… I’ll laugh at anything… and even when I don’t… I tend to laugh at the situation…

Turn 4… If There Is Unnecessary Laughing – Some People Might Be Afraid To Share Their Feelings. Be Aware of the Mood You Create! Take another card.

This made me laugh…

Turn 5… Say Something About Earthquakes.

They can move the earth… How is this even a question?… they just got lazy on a few of these… fun fact… I have been through a few earthquakes… nothing horrific as the ones on the news… but there are places on earth where they just happen… no big deal… lose a picture frame or lamp and move on… those types are actually pretty fun… I rather enjoyed them… the ones where people die?… fuck that… That would not be fun at all…

Turn 6… Do You Ever Feel Lonely? When?

This is two questions… lazy writing… learn the rules of your own game… avoiding the question maybe?… I get lonely because I am human… It doesn’t happen often because I was an only child… so I can feel it… but I move on from it rather quickly in general… The loneliness I feel when I am not around my wife and daughter… is a little hard to move past…

I feel that constantly… right now… even… I want to write and get some work done… but I miss them… wonder what they are doing… what we will do later… I would say that the idea of loneliness has changed a lot for me over time… I wouldn’t call it a learned behavior… I’m sure that I was lonely a lot as a child… but I didn’t know it… so maybe that is why I overcompensate so much as an adult… I’ve been called clinging… haha… yeah me… but for the most part… I love to be alone… It is all I really know… I find so many things to do in this idea of alone… sometimes it can be hurtful but for me it is relaxing…

What?… I think people who are only child’s will understand what I mean… everyone else maybe not so much… so many sides to a coin… I can admit though that the feeling of being a lone is very overwhelming… but so is the idea that there is always someone there… there needs to be a balance… just like with everything in life… in truth though we are never truly a lone… that is one thing I have learned from this life… and this website…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Chewing On Glass Presents… See Through the Light into the Darkness Pt 2…

“We’ve all gathered her once again. What is the purpose? What is the point of all of this my people?” The man asks the small coven before him. “To praise him,” they chant back. “To love him. To Honor him,” They continue. “Because?” The man asks enthusiastically. “Jesus is lord,” They answer. The woman at the man’s feet whimpers as she struggles with her restraints. Gagged she can’t say a thing, but she tries none the less. “That is right my children. That is so very right. We don’t do this for ourselves, but for him. We don’t hurt people we free them in the name of our lord. That is why we are here this evening,” the man kneels down towards the woman. Rubbing the back of his fingers across her face, “This woman, if you could call her that, needs our help this evening my children.” She flails her head as she tries to scream, “Hush my child. We are only trying to save you, help you. We mean you no harm.” The man stands back up and takes his place behind the podium. The air around him thick with silent anticipation. “See my children? See why we must help her? She doesn’t even know that she is lost. She doesn’t even know the devil has taken a hold of her,” He presents to them. “Free her. Give her back to Jesus,” they all responded back. “Oh, we shall. Strip her,” he orders to the two men beside the stage. The two men do as they are told ripping the woman’s clothes off of her. Her mesh shirt shredded instantly. She kicks and screams as her pale skin is exposed to the crowd. “Stand her up for my children to see,” the man orders. “Look my children. Look what the devil as done to this poor woman,” he walks from behind the podium and stands next to her. “These marks of sin all throughout her body. Tattoos not only where we can freely see, but even where only her husband could,” he runs his finger down her pelvis following the outline of the tattoos as he speaks. “And these,” he shouts to dramatic effect as he flicks her nipple rings. She struggles against the two men. “What on God’s green earth could these be used for if not for sin. What is the purposes of such atrocities? Don’t even get me started on her horns,” he chuckles to himself. “Set her free. Give her back to Jesus,” the angry crowd shouts unprovoked. “Oh, we shall my children, we shall. Kneel before Christ,” he shouts at her. The two men kick her legs out from under her and help her to her knees. Naked kneels before him as he steps up to her with a cup in his hands. He pulls out her gag with his free hand releasing a siren of screams into the room. “Hush now child,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. Moving closer to her face he speaks in whispers, “You had to know the day would come where you’d have to face your sins. Some one of your nature couldn’t be so naive. Here are your choices young lady. You drink this here cup of the lord.” Her face tenses up, “I’m not drinking shit.” He lets off a small amused smile, “I think you will because if you don’t you are going to know pain beyond anything even you could know. Drink the cup and accept Jesus into your body. You do that and we will let you go. Simple really. If you don’t. Well we will have to find another way to let Jesus in and the demons out.” Tears fall from her face, “I ain’t drinking shit.” He shakes his head, “Please, we don’t want to hurt you. We just want to save you. Save your soul from damnation. Drink the blood of Christ accept him into your heart and you are free do go.” He holds the cup within inches of her lips. “Okay, I’ll drink it,” she agrees. “She says she will accept Christ,” he shouts for all to hear. She continues to cry as the room cheers. He hold the cup up to her lips and she slowly drinks it, Take all of Jesus Christ into you.” She nods as she drinks from the cup. Drinks every last drop. “Let her go,” he orders to the two men. Scarred and panic she rises naked to her feet. She tries to cover what she can of herself as she runs down the aisle. “Let Christ consume your evil my child. Let the lord set you free,” he shouts from behind her. A smile stretched across his face. The sedative takes effect before she even makes it to the doors of the church. “How could I be so,” she falls to the floor. “Bring her to me my children. We have much to do before it is too late,” he orders.

“Is she ready?” The reverend asks. “She has been drained of all her blood,” one of his followers answers. “Good, take her down and lets proceed to the chosen sight,” the reverend orders. “What of the others?” The follower asks. “In time my child. In time they will all receive their penance,” he answers. Bodies of men and women hang from meat hooks bound by the wrist. The truck bed shifts a bit. “Will someone tell the driver to be a little more careful? We have precious cargo with us. Can’t afford to get caught now. Not this soon. So much work left to do,” The reverend says with a smile. The follower disappears to the front of the trailer to talk to the driver. The reverend touches her face with the back of his hand, “Could have truly been so much more in this world.” A female follower standing next to him speaks up, “She will be more than she could have ever been in this life time. Praise him.” He turns to her, “How right you are my child. How right you are.” He takes the followers face into his hands, “Praise him. Praise him we shall.” The refrigerated truck drives for a few more hours until it reaches a stretch of road in some unknown town. “We have arrived my children,” He announces. The followers that he has brought come from under their warm blankets. Steam releasing from their bodies as they rush to get the others awake and ready. “The sun will be up soon and we have even less time than that. Put the gloves on and take her to the tree. No one without gloves is allowed to touch anything,” the reverend commands. Slipping on his own gloves he takes three large industrial size nails and the hammer from the end of the truck. They slip out of the truck and rapid fashion. Silent as the night as they carry her dead corpse with them. Sitting her down in the grass they untie her hands and place her in a cross formation. They stand waiting around the body in a circle as the reverend makes his way to them. He places the nails next to her body before taking one. Placing it in the palm of her cold dead hand he hammers it in. “For the Lord,” he says before taking another nail. Palm to ankles he hammers the nails into the body. “For the Lord. Praise him,” his followers chant. They all go silent as he hammers in the final nail firmly through her ankles. Pinned against the grass they all stare at her lifeless corpse. “The sinner and the whore has been redeemed for your blessing. We give you back your lost child. We give, we do all that you have asked of us. For we are the children of the one true God. We are the warriors upon which you seek. Praise the Lord. Honor the Lord. Children of Christ. Amen.” The followers raise their arms to the sky as it begins to rise. The shadows of evil slowly receding at the dawn of day. “Praise him. Praise the Lord,” the followers say in unison one last time. Into the early light they disappear back to the truck. They leave no traces of ever being there and the insects begin to feed. Because even in the south the dead don’t rest in peace.

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

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Chewing On Glass Presents… Seems To Be Changing…

“Some nights I awake to this feeling that something is wrong. I wake up in the middle of the night most days and maybe you wake up in the day only to feel the same way. Scratching at the walls of your coffin. I’m unsure how that really works. Some nights the sky somehow seems darker than the one before it. A darkness so dark that it is as though light cannot penetrate. This isn’t a metaphor, but a fact. It makes everything, it puts me on edge for the rest of the day. Every turn of every corner leaves me waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to go wrong or fall apart. These are metaphors though and irrational thoughts because nothing ever seems to happen. Maybe because I am aware? Because I am on the lookout for this doom that never comes?  Were you aware? I think about that sometimes. I think about a lot of things with my time. I use to think I knew what life meant. What life had in store for me, but the longer I am alive the more I realize I don’t know anything.”

“Our time spent is a waste, our time not spent is a waste. Every day can feel exactly the same and yet this feeling grows. Ideas are spent trying to figure out what we are, but little to none is spent on who we are day to day at least. It gets lost, my thoughts, as I try to say or even think them rather. What I’m trying to say, what I want to say is that this longing for something greater only leave us at one conclusion. What is greater? Is breathing not great enough? The ability to think, create, or move not great enough? What is it that I want out of life besides living it? There always seems to be this bar just out of my reach, but I know that if I reach it there will only be one higher above it. Still I struggle to find the strength to do what I know needs to be done. A list of tasks, a stack of papers, a head full of ideas, and I have no idea what to do. Where to go next? Wasting time in the dark. Living a life I once thought was living. I know there is something greater out there. I also know there is nothing out there. Stuck somewhere in between or living how it was always intended to be?”

“This endless cycle is pointless in thought, but in theory it seems to be what is needed to get through these days. These dark days. These days that seem like everything is going to collapse upon itself at any moment. I still have more time on this planet than I would like to admit and I don’t know what to do with it. An endless amount of time trying or fighting will only lead me back to where I am today. I use to think that I knew what life meant, but every day it seems to rewrite itself. Everyday life seems to be changing and going nowhere all at the same time. Life is always changing, but I keep staying the same. Locked inside my head. Rambling to the dead.” She lingers at the grave stone long after the words have left her mouth. Reading the words, tracing the lines carved in stone with her eyes.

Layne Ambrose
Father, Son, Husband
“Never Could Get Anything Done But At Least You Tried.”

This one so far has changed more than any other story this cycle… Was unsure what to do with it really… Rewrote it several times… re read it just as many… hopefully it all flows… this isn’t an excuse for laziness… though it will sound like one… but sometimes after reading something over and over it bleeds together… love the website… love posting… but there is no time to linger in this format… to obsess over every word and sentence… which is a blessing and a curse… because I will hold onto ideas for years because it isn’t “100%”…. fun fact… no story is ever at a hundred percent…

I have been done with A Lie for years… and every now and then I catch myself starting another chapter for a story that is “done”… ride out the thought and then toss it in the trash file… I’m done with that story… but sometimes the mind lingers… we change… we want to go back and change things… I’m a better writer now than I was then… but no matter how much better I get… I will never be back in that time… that point in my life… I will never see the world the same again…

That was what this one was about for me… which to me is a good idea… but not enough… so I fucked with it… and fucked with it… until I just ran out of time… happy accidents happen when we least expect them… It wasn’t until right now as I was setting up this post that I didn’t feel like I was cheating myself in some way… settling on an idea that I thought was a waste of time… not good enough… to be fair I think this about all of my ideas… but in this case as I was setting up the post… an idea came to me…

What if it wasn’t about me… what if it was about someone else close to me?… Ideas are infectious… we are only copies of those before us… our families… our parents… with add ons… this is a very basic concept of the human brain and please don’t take offense… My dad was an asshole too… but I’m still into shit that was introduced to me before he left… another time… point is… as much as we as parents don’t want to pass on our negative attributes to our children we enviably do… it is unavoidable to a certain degree… the hope is that they will be better than we were and over come the things we couldn’t… I know it always seems like our parents or our parent want us to do so many things with our lives… but that is all they really want… that is what each generation is… a do over on the last one… change is slow though… and the world is fast… and only getting faster… another time on this idea as well…

The woman or girl… at the end is my daughter… and I failed to do what I meant to do as a parent… to not pass on all the negative shit I’m not going to list here… that concept got me excited about this story… my hope is that at a deeper level that was apparent… but it isn’t vital to the story… it is only vital to me and my enjoyment of the story… that is a little insight on how these stories shift through my brain to the “page”… hope all is well…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Broken Thoughts… Screams Run Deep…

Knee deep in shit
With nowhere else to go
Swallowed whole by the monster from within
My worst enemy has never been you or them
Limitations I place upon myself
A burning body, a rotting corpse
Drown myself now, of course, of course
Head in the clouds
Feet nailed down
Pulling at the restraints
Have I always felt this way?
Lost in the idea that this is something new
A second wind, another chance
Same old shit as before
Stabbing at the wounds
Picking through the reasons
Scars are therapeutic
Until they happen to you
Processing through bad memories
A life time spent, hell bent on
Tearing myself down

I’m so tired… will the demons ever let me sleep?…

Corrupt corruption
Expect more from something
That never gave a damn
Push harder, pushed against a wall
The thoughts scream
The thoughts don’t go away
Grow stronger in the dark
A theme we can’t seem to escape
Moments in time add up
Becoming something more than myself
Collective collections
Expect more from something
Never had in the first place
Pushing harder, pushed against the wall
The thoughts don’t go away
Join in on the scream
Butterfly whispers in the dark
A theme we can’t help but enjoy
Moments in time add up to something
This world can’t be all that there is
Something buried beneath the surface
A greater love not found
A greater reason hidden from the blind
Love to believe this was right
Truth in lies
Secrets buried in the light
Peeling back the lids of our eyes
Still nothing in sight

When the world ended. It didn’t just wash away. Not like it should have at least.

Hot and humid the air so thick
Taking the air out of every breath
Never ready for this all to end
Never had a say in the hand played
Relentless, no sleep for the wicked
Breaking down the wall between
The living and the dead
The gates were never open
Slammed shut before anyone had a say
A fake idea buried in sympathy
Give us nothing but
More money, more power, more everything
Don’t believe in false lies
Prophets put in place for profits
Building a dream out of false ideas
Humanity would have to mean being human
Lost the thought so long ago
The only real American’s left
Are those willing to risk it all
Lies force feed to us all

This is going to get super preachy… and for that I am sorry…

I have no problem with Christians… or any religion for that matter… we all need faith… even those that say they don’t… they are full of shit… we all have faith… we all need faith… faith is why we are all still here… faith can take many forms… find yours and live your life… if it doesn’t hurt or kill or destroy anyone… what does it matter what you believe compared to what I believe?… it doesn’t… because like faith we need each other just as much… even those that say they don’t… me… are full of shit…

What I do have a problem with is ignorance… if you believe something… believe it then… you think the bible is truth… then read the damn thing… hear the words… understand them for what they are… it is not a god damn shield to hide behind… it is not a fucking soap box to stand on… or a place to hold your hand to prove you are telling the truth… it is not something to manipulate for your fucked up agenda… I don’t know how anyone who believes in a religion doesn’t get pissed when these ignorant, dumb fucks throw their book around to justify their horrible actions of murder… oppression… genocide… suffering… corruption… pain… hurt… the list goes on… to me it is just like fuck you…

I live in a nation of mostly Christians… I’m not a bible aficionado… I don’t believe in it… I have nothing against it… just not for me… But please can someone… anyone tell me where it says… rounding up the poor and stripping them of their families is okay?… where it says to never lend a hand to your fellow man… watch them starve and suffer… care about yourself and only yourself… make no effort to set aside your own wants to help those of us who are in need… did I skim past a major section of the bible?.. I’ve got a basic understanding of this idea called Jesus… and he seemed very against not helping people… I feel like that was kind of his main character trait… so many Christians act as though Jesus wasn’t dragging a cross to his death for our sins… but rather the first brick of a giant wall he was building…

They act and support ideas that go against the very fabric of what they say they believe… not even like deep cuts either… not even like page 946… “Shit it says that? I must have missed that part. I read it all in one night. Well that is something to think about.” No… they are on page one going… “Jesus wanted nothing more than to oppress those around him and watch them suffer. That’s why he turned water into wine and gave them those fish. He wanted the wall to stop people from eating and having a good time. It is basic economics. Everyone knows Jesus was all about that money. Was all about watching his father’s people die in the desert sun. Drown in a river? haha No, that is their baptism. Says so right here on page two Did you not get that far?”

As a none Christian listening to all this ignorance and stupidity spewing out of their mouths… if I was to follow the “logic” of these super Christians… the examples that they lay out… Jesus sounds like a real asshole… Which again from my basic understanding of Jesus… he didn’t really come across like that to me… sure maybe he could be a dick every once in a while… who here can’t be?… was he perfect?… no… who here is?… but for the most part he seemed like a good person… with good intentions… seemed like someone who inspired change rather than try to snuff it out… From what I know of him… he sets an example of someone to put your faith into… must have missed some major plot points at some point… maybe I have been the ignorant one all along… for believing humanity understood what it meant to be human…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter