If You Doubt That Fascist Leftists Are At Work Everywhere In The US And Most Of The Rest Of The World,

See? The barter system is truly universal.

I HAVE to enter into economic relations with a tufted squirrel. It's an imperative!

Source: everythingfox

“This little guy always bring dried seed to trade for some nuts”

(Source)

Been away for a few days/nights, sorting out the grain from the chaff. And by God's grace and love, I've been successful...

And just when I thought the gifts couldn't get richer, I found a poem come flowing out tonight. It may read as a sadness, but read deeper, because there's love and the anticipation of a love that holds the salvation one man, this man, sought. That salvation was delivered to me by Providence, and this poem marks the time it took me to come to this revelation...

1:

Red cirrus swipes against blue canvas

The colors should grasp my voice and send it heavenward, but I can't... just can't

Birds alight like dreams upon my head, shoulders

They wheedle me for a song to join theirs...

But I can't... just can't...

A child laughs and invites me into her otherwise private joke at the ridiculous world of ridiculous grown-ups...

I smile, and, for that briefest of explosions from the canyons of my yesterdays, I want to join her. Join her and force my wild laughter to Heaven's gate... but I can't... just can't...

A friend died today, or maybe a century ago, but it feels like every second he's there, then not...

And before tears can own me, I remember his jokes about living, dying, soaring, searing and God, and I want to laugh... but I can't... just can't...

I sit on the quiet bench among heavy skies, and I know, now, the reason for my can'ts...

I can't until there's you to show me I can...

Postscript:

God gave me HER, as undeserving as I was for all my years, and she shines a light dipped in God's lustrous Waters, a light that guides me in Stygian nights and stormswept days. And I decry my unending gratitude for God's gift of her. Amen.

There is no legitimate argument against this statement, especially in light of the fact that daily, an average of 32 veterans commit suicide, while others become homeless (at present, roughly 300,000 veterans are homeless).

Is it just me, or is this simulation that I share with everybody (or, perhaps nobody) really just zooming out of fucking bounds? I mean, c'mon, baby, how can a tree be a snake, or a snake a tree?

Please tell me you see the same fucking fucked up image. Don't indulge me if you don't see it ['cuz we'll still be cordial and upright], but if you do, please fucking sound off!

What the hell, why not?

What she said...

More often than not, the female presence in the room OWNS the fucking room...

Argue me this point, lasses and lads..mm

Eddie Cochran!

These are thoughtful and honest tips. I just had to share them, because no matter my content or the urgency of the story or poetry that is trying to claw its way to the page, I, too, suffer distraction and creative implosion. These things work...

Does anybody have any writing tips for adhd writers?

First thing I'm buying is ear plugs...

Reblog this and money will be entering your life this week

This is such a thing...

But then egos take over and the stories turn to shit...

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something