Stories, poems, colorings and other musings

Like it or don't. I don't care.

It's 2am or later. And I'm bored. Writing puts me to sleep.


The Oregon Train ALA Haiku

Leaving Missouri
On our way to Oregon
Dead. Dysentary.

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Small Wonder ALA Haiku

Girl is robotic
Family not robotic
Vicki touched by Dad

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Bro's ALA Haiku

tap-out shirts and hats
dave matthews on the guitar
stop you are 30

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Carl Manross woke up late. He stared at the ceiling. His head was a ballet dancer and his chest was a coal miner. How could he let himself get like this. How could he sink to this level. As he was trying to get a grip of his situation, he thought to himself, "How could I let myself get like this. How could I sink to this level?" He caught something out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to see a scrunched up piece of paper wedged in between his copies of the New Testament, and Vibe magazine. He opened it up, and before he could finish reading it, he balled it up and threw it out his window. Must not have been important.

It was this day that Carl Manross's life would change forever. It was today that he would realize that while there's no looking back, looking forward with your back turned is just like looking back, and therefore ruins that whole philosophy. Also, today is the day that Carl Manross will die. All because of one. little. paper.