Blog Archives

New Beginnings

Because I haven’t written anything for the blog in quite some time I thought I should start.

First, I’d like to apologize to Chuck Wendig. I will change my blog’s title ASAP as I am aware that “PenMonkey” is a registered trademark.

I appreciate that you haven’t, as far as I know, sued me yet. However, it is time to ditch your coattails, good sir.

In any event, in the spirit of the season, I am moving forward. As you well know, readers, it is the end of the year.

So, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and Happy new year! (Also, if you celebrate some other holiday as I do, happy Yuletide season! And yes, I do mean that in the generic sense.) Put simply, happy freaking Holidays!

 

 

 

Advertisements

You’ll Notice some changes around here

Ok, so, you may be noticing some changes to the blog soon if you haven’t already.

  1. I have gone to a “private” setting so I can better mod things on here. (People seem to think I’m a “dbag” and an “ahole.” (My gut response is to say **** you haters, but…well, I’m trying to make money here, lol.)

  2. If you like the changes, let me know.
  3. If you don’t…let me know. *grits teeth*
  4. I have all the things linked. If a link is broken, TELL ME!
  5. If anything at all doesn’t work (a video, a stream, a telekinetically thrown goat, etc. etc. etc.)… LET ME KNOW!
  6. Don’t be a dbag to me or others on here.
  7. I have the final say in who is a douche and who isn’t…MWHAHAHAHA. This isn’t a democracy, this isn’t a “cheerocracy” (as Chuck Wendig put it *wink wink nudge nudge*), this is a Pagan Republic.
  8. All that being said…
  9. HAVE FUN.
  10. BE SAFE.
  11. …VOICE YOUR OPINIONS!

Why Modern Activism Is Often Merely Lip Service To Bullshit Ideals

NOTE: This is opinion,and personal analysis. I am usually a fairly accepting, friendly, respectful, and kind-hearted individual so: Take what you will from this, but watch the fuck out when dealing with me in person. If you can’t quite understand what I mean by that last…you will shortly or you won’t at all.

I am an Anarchist. No bullshit. No façades or delusions there.

366px-Anarchist_black_cross_logo

Long Live Anarchist Black Cross! Хай живе Нестор Махно! Vive la Résistance! ¡Viva la Revolución!

The problem with announcing anarchic politics is that Anarchy, true Anarchy, is not political at all. True Anarchy is the insanity of believing and espousing the belief that individual living things should have the basic right to do pretty much anything they want.

Anarchism becomes political because, and only because, we live in a politically governed system of linked sociological groups. A true Anarchist is, by the very definition, incapable of overlooking the vileness of politics imposed on inherently non-political species.

Most politicians, political analysts, philosophers, and activists want to make the ways of nature into some kind of political system.

NATURE IS NOT A FUCKING POLITICAL ENGINE YOU IGNORANT STATIST MORONS

*Ahem* Now, with that microrant off my chest we may resume this soap-box proselytization.

At some point you, reader, might wonder why I seem to take things so personally.

It. Is. Personal.

Whoever you are, no matter what philosophical, political, national, regional, or familial allegiances you might have, read carefully and buyer beware:

YOU have NO right to tell me how to live MY life. YOU have NO right to tell ANYONE how to live THEIR life. YOU have NO right to impose YOUR moral/philosophical/political ideals, rules, laws, and/or regulations on ME or ANYONE ELSE.

Grow the fuck up. Stop making things that absolutely DO NOT matter into personal attacks in your own twisted and brainwashed mind.

The next time someone with no direct authority, under the law or not, tries to enforce their own ideals on me someone is leaving either in a body bag or on a stretcher whether its me or not. That in mind: Be careful what you say. Words have meaning people. I am a snake in the fucking grass: Tread On Me At Thine Own Risk.

Human beings are human beings. Living things are living things. Regardless of any other observed status given to or accepted by an individual, everything living has a natural and unalienable right to three things: life, personal liberty, and the pursit of happiness. Your regional/national/state governments, laws, politics, and customs CAN NOT take that away from me and I will fight to the death to defend those rights in others if forced to do so.

I would rather die than live any other way.

If you don’t see things the way I do…get behind me or otherwise stay the fuck out of my way. Period. There are worse fates than death and some things more than worth enduring any possible outcome of fate.

Anarchy, libertarianism, non-Marxist socialism, anti-establishmentarianism, anarcho-socialism, anarcho-capitalism, equality, love, righteous anger, vigilante, punk, hippy, tree-hugger, world citizen, American, Native American, European, tolerance, peace, spirituality, collectivism, activism and humanism defined is me. (Assuming you must label me with anything as useless as human labels and words.) Economics, politics, and other contrived human bullshit has nothing to do with it. I don’t care what socio-politics we all end up with on this planet just keep your racism, sexism, misogyny, patriarchy, matriarchy, statism, liberalism, and conservatism away from me. Capitalist? Fine…be the best capitalist you can be. Communist? Same to you. Socialist? OK by me. Something else entirely? EVEN BETTER. We aren’t a conglomeration of labels and hash tags. We are human fucking beings. We are Alive. So live mother fuckers!

My rights, your rights, and the rights of those humans and other living things around you are divinely given. Pandora trapped Hope in the jar for all of humanity.

Stepping down from the soap box now.

Have an unbelievable day! 😀

In Earnest,

King Pollux ~ Adam Kristofer Walkingstick King

P.S. For the other activists out there:

If you aren’t willing to die for your cause and your ideals why do you have them? Think on that. Hard. And with feeling.

On Being a Misfit, an Outsider, a Lone Wolf

I saw this post on “vic briggs | a writer adrift” and it inspired me to write on the topic too. I saw that daily prompt (from yesterday the ninth) but didn’t really feel moved to post on the topic with how I was feeling that day. Frankly, yesterday (Thursday, Jan 9th) was just a shit day in most aspects.

In any event, I felt that it would be great to post a sort of personal response to Vic Briggs’ post explaining how I feel about being a writer and a weirdo (“weirdo” is my own addition and shouldn’t be misconstrued as calling all writers “weirdos”… though many are, 😛 neener-neener).

I’ll begin with a bit of a cliche. I always felt different.

In my case, however, that feeling different felt normal and I never felt as if I did not “fit in” as a child. That may not make a whole lot of sense to you presently, but, please, hear me out and I can explain.

You know that feeling, in the summer, when you go inside from the screeching heat? That feeling of complete and utter relief? When the thermostat may be turned up to a mere couple degrees below the outdoor temperature and it doesn’t fucking matter, you still feel relief?

That’s kind of how “feeling different” from all the other kids felt like when I was young.

I accepted the fact that I was different and also the fact that I could still fit into the social groups I was expected to fit in with. I could still “succeed” by the standards of my parents and teachers while remaining true to the fact that I was unique. Yea, even at a young age I could get a little grandiose and overly cocky.

Once, in the Third Grade, another boy and I made a game of prank calling the police from the pay phone (sorry, kids, many of you younger folks probably haven’t even seen one of those 😛 ) just outside the office. It was a blast! We knew deep below the surface that what we were doing was wrong. We knew this was forbidden. Someone had taught us this lesson already: calling the police when there is no danger is dangerous for other people. That was the FUN part about the game!

J.J. and I got away with prank calling for a few days just fine. The office personnel were always inside or far from the office during recesses. We figured as long as no one caught us in the act, it would be fine. Of course that meant I had to go off on my own and push the envelope just a hair too far and get caught in the act. (I usually knew/know when to call something quits, but in that case I completely misjudged the location of the stopping line.)

That was embarrassing! That single event, I’m sure, is the reason I tried so hard in the years stretching from then to now to do whatever I wanted without getting caught doing the things authorities looked poorly upon. I managed to cute-ify* and manipulate my way out of the prank calling incident and if I could do that I figured I could do it again in other situations.

See, from a very young age I was a rebel. A punk. A misfit prince of thieves and deception. Even as a toddler I was 95% pure mischief. Its that outer 5% of cuteness, innocence, and wit that kept me from ever getting into serious trouble.

I always had a relatively large group of friends and never had any trouble getting along with anyone, adult or child. My mother supposes that my learning to talk and read at a young age coupled with her own propensity to speak to me as if I were an adult while I was still in my crib helped me to learn excellent social skills in general. I am grateful (more than I can ever say) for my parents both, for their encouragement and nurturing. It sure wasn’t expected that I’d do anything other than what I wanted within the household. They just did their best to teach me how to want and like the things that would kill me, harm me, and do neither of those things to others.

Upon reaching junior year in High School (I believe it is generally also called “secondary school”, for non-American readers) I met her. That girl that I thought I would marry in my youth and naivete. Yea, well… dedicating everything of myself to anyone at that age and in the ensuing years was a major mistake.

So, it happened, that at the times I wanted to rebel the most I wound up with someone who opened my eyes to many truths I’d never had to face before. We were so different and so bull-headed and determined that somehow the relationship worked for us. Sadly, it didn’t work for any of my large family or enormous friend base.

Now, just over 8 years later, my life is only just beginning to regain some semblance of togetherness and health.

During those 8 years running from 11th grade to November of 2011 I went through the soul crushing experience of morphing from a confident and independent young man into a groveling, lying, thieving, wretched, crack addict. I had no friends. My family had all but given up on me (except my parents, they, of course, always held out hope). I was that lone wolf I always thought I wanted to be. I chose the Wolf and the Wolf chose me.

Moving from conservative Christianity to anti-Christianity to vague neo-paganism to Hellenismos was a hard process alone. I’ve been a Hellenic polytheist since late 2007. (Which happens to be the year I graduated High School and began attending California State University, Fresno and living, for the first time, out of my parent’s home and on campus.) I only just got the courage and fortitude to tell my parents mere weeks ago.

I’ve been a Misfit. I’ve been that Outsider of which true artists and vainglorious frauds speak. I am the Lone Wolf.

The only reason I’ve survived thus far? I also happen to have a pack.

I don’t walk alone as much as I felt I did for so long and as much as I thought I wanted to. Sure, it’s a marvelous feeling to “go your own way,” but humans are social creatures and no amount of lying to yourself will change that. The only way to survive for long as a “misfit,” “outsider,” or “lone wolf” is to find a “pack” of other outliers that you fit in well with.

That’s how I survived when multiple situations should have found me dead or in prison upon reaching their ending.

  • I’ve overdosed on cough syrup (just robo-tripping) and wound up in the hospital on saline IV drips twice then was 5150’d and brought to the Community Behavioral Health Center in east Fresno where I was 5250’d and only released ten days later because my parents signed me out on my own recognizance in their care at my begging and pleading
  • I’ve had guns in the hands of those more than willing to shoot aimed at my car
  • I’ve had people threaten to beat me up or kill me
  • I’ve been surrounded by gang bangers, cutthroats, and dope addicts who might have attacked or murdered me for little more than a sideways glance at the wrong moment
  • I’ve been addicted to opiates (mostly stolen hydrocodone pills, but sometimes oxy if I could get it free) as well as crack cocaine (sometimes using them both within a brief time frame)
  • I’ve been on the verge of murdering other men on more than one occasion (by on the verge I mean “so pissed or otherwise upset that I actually had plans for killing them in cold blood and getting away with it and came very close at least three or four times to actually acting out the plan”)
  • I’ve been handcuffed and arrested (then released) by Clovis PD for having smoking paraphernalia (a little glass crack stem) in my pocket while one of the brake lights in my brother’s jeep was out [NOTE: If you are on or coming down from powerful stimulants, have some drugs or paraphernalia in the car, get pulled over, and have never had to face the police while in such a state before… you’re probably screwed. Sorry, that’s just the way it goes. Those guys are trained to recognize the symptoms.]

I won’t go on here, this post is long enough. Still, if you’ve read this far: Thank you very much.

You few that read this and take something from it…I’d like the message you take from it to be whatever message you need to hear from such a topic at this stage of your life.

In the end, people cannot survive for long or very happily without other people. Even if you never associate with anyone in “mainstream” society somehow and cast yourself out as a misfit/loner/outsider/reject/lone wolf… you need socialization. Sure, you could survive for a while on the company of animals or imaginary friends, but you won’t thrive.

Surviving. is. NOT. living.

So, thanks for reading! I hope you take something out of this even if that one something is the conclusion that I am completely insane! ^_^ I AM!

DING-DING-DING-DING!! We’ve got a winner folks! Give this guy-girl/girl-guy/person (because honestly who can tell these days anyway and why does it really matter in the end when gender is more cultural myth than physical status?) the booby prize for recognizing the obvious!

😛 I learned a few years ago that claiming insanity actually means I’m not crazy. (Run that one through the old noodle and see what shakes out. Bahahahahahahahaha!)

Have an unbelievable day!

In Earnest,

 

King Pollux ~ Adam Kristofer Walkingstick King

King of Delusional Grandeur,

Prince of Thieves on Earth,

Demi-god Son of Zeus and Leda,

did the scribe list “King of Delusional Grandeur”?

Oh…so he did…good

ta-ta for now folks!

*Derp* Here’s the daily prompt!

Nominated for the Sunshine Award – Thank You Afsheen!

As the title suggests, I was nominated for the Sunshine Award by my new friend Afsheen Anjum.

شكرا جزيلا

Thank you very much for selecting my blog as one of your ten nominations. That is amazing for me after only 7 days on WordPress. It means a lot. 😀

Everyone should go look at her blog and her art! She has a big heart and great passion.

So, here is how the award works:

  • Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their blog.
  • List 11 facts about YOU!
  • Nominate 10 other blogs to receive the award.
  • Announce the nominations to the nominees.

Facts about me:

  1. I am a writer, poet, novelist, blogger (well d’uh, right?), and freelance writer (I am fairly inexperienced at commission/freelance work but I have samples of my fiction and non-fiction available if anyone is interested in future.)
  2. I am a musician/vocalist
  3. I am a Hellenic Polytheist with Reconstructionist tendencies. If you have no clue what I’m talking about there, check out the Wiki article on it, it isn’t perfect, but its a good overview. Otherwise, if you are more interested, you could check out the Neokoroi, of which I am a member
  4. I have been called an “old soul”
  5. I am an unlicensed Information Systems technician/computer repair tech and amateur web designer
  6. I am a recovering addict (addicted  to crack/cocaine but I would have used anything I could get my hands on)
  7. I am Irish, Scottish, Native American, Welsh, British, Norwegian, Mexican, and all manner of other nationalities/ethnicities so I usually identify (affectionately) as a “mutt”
  8. I can see beauty in just about anything and anyone
  9. I do not believe in “good” and “evil” by any conventional or traditional standard and I do not believe in “sin”
  10. I go by so many names/nicknames I’ve forgotten some (seriously, though: Adam, George, Lykeios, Lyke, Pollux, Georgie Porgie, King, Aam {the way I used to pronounce my name as a baby and, consequently, the way my mom sometimes refers to me to my chagrin}, White Chocolate, Doofus, Spazz, moron, and, recently: Faggot, Asshole, Crackhead, Whore, Man-Whore, and so forth)
  11. I truly adore all the people I’ve met on WordPress thus far and am still blown away by the support and encouragement I have received. At 30 followers, this is the most readership I’ve had for any blog I’ve ever made! You guys are awesome, thank you so much! If it wasn’t for you…I wouldn’t be writing nearly as much as I am. So, as gaeilge: Go raibh míle maith agat!

My Nominations:

  • SFoxWriting – Good poetry, awesome writing, and, he helps his sister get her photography out there. Check it out, Steven deserves a click!
  • I Love Painting – Amazing paintings, good writing, and all around blogging excellence!
  • Let’s Reach Success – I adore this blog as well. Lidiya is kind-hearted and driven and her work is fun to read.
  • Gotta Find a Home – Another very good blog on a topic that is near and dear to me. Give Dennis some more clicks, people! 🙂
  • Writings of a Mrs – More awesome poetry and just plain good writing. Jennifer certainly has a way with words as well. Also, thanks for the re-blogs and the advice on getting more of a readership built up! 😀
  • Megan’s Musings – Yet another epic blog. I enjoy it and she writes so well about difficult topics.
  • Lightning DropletsVery pretty blog with pretty words and pretty pictures. I’m loving this one too, so she can have one of my nomination spots, its well earned.
  • The Vintage Postcard – Awesome pictures and writing from all over the world! Great information for anyone interested in traveling on a working salary. Can’t wait to read more.
  • Margot’s Blog – Still another blog filled with epicness. Each day I look forward to seeing Margot’s pick for the word and pic of the day.
  • Live Simply, Travel Lightly, Love Passionately & Don’t Forget To BreatheDefinitely in my personal Top 3 of Travel Blogs. Elena is inspiring to me and her blog is just plain made of awesome. Живи Россия!

Again, thank you so much for the nomination, Afsheen!

Also, thanks are deserved by all of my followers and readers. You are all the best and biggest audience I’ve ever reached in blog format. Keep looking here for some little rewards. I plan, now that a working computer is on the way from eBay, on cranking out some music and art for you all. Love to all of you beautiful, amazing people!

Stay Frosty, my friends! Oh, and, as always, have an unbelievable day!

In Earnest,

King Pollux ~ Adam Kristofer Walkingstick King

P.S. To anyone I didn’t choose to nominate this time:

I’m sorry! I follow so many amazing blogs through Word Press that it was hard to decide which to nominate. However, if I didn’t choose to nominate you…I still love your blogs! 🙂 Much Love to everyone, here! No hard feelings, huh? 😉

Daily Prompt: Style Icon

Well, the prompt for today asked me to define my “personal style.” I suppose this could be sort of a fun topic, so I’ll go ahead and indulge myself.

Check the prompt

My style? Oh, Gods, what are you asking of me?

In FAT waiting to catch my plane to Phoenix so I can catch another plane to Philadelphia.

In FAT waiting to catch my plane to Phoenix so I can catch another plane to Philadelphia.

I think the best way to describe my sense of “style” (though, I don’t really believe I’m afflicted with such a triviality by conventional standards of style) is OMNICLECTIC.

Omniclectic? What the frack is that?

Sit down and stay a while and I shall elucidate.

“Omniclectic” is a word I just made up. It means something like “super duper über eclectic.” Not clear enough? Well, crimenitly, it means I am so eclectic the individual styles are no longer distinguishable. However, what that really tells you is that I have ADHD and a penchant for getting distracted.

If I had to choose one style for myself, it’d definitely be “punk.” I have a mohawk, denim jacket with spikes and patches all over, and generally wear ratty clothing in multifarious stylings with gritty music blaring from my person.

A Clockwork Orange? I got your Clockwork Orange right here! m!m

A Clockwork Orange? I got your Clockwork Orange right here! m!m

Still, I don’t really commit to one style of dress, music, art, writing, or anything. I prefer to keep my options open. Since my “awakening” (if you want to call it such) this last November I have tried many new things and am remaining open to all possibilities.

I can’t wait to get some money together so Freddy (Cansas, my twin sis) and I can travel the planet and try out everything the world has to offer! I see the beauty in all things and all people now. Much Love.

Here’s to staying true to yourself and trying new things!

In Earnest,

King Pollux ~ Adam Kristofer Walkingstick King

How Kimya Dawson Saved My Life.

This song was sent to me by an acquaintance I made in the Over Achievers chat of NaNoWriMo (Thank you Cai, I know you hate me, but I’ll never forget what you did for me simply by sharing this song and being who you are.). It broke me. It made me admit that the 6 months of “recovery” I’d put behind me were a sham. I wasn’t clean. I wasn’t even sober. Sure, I wasn’t smoking crack, but drinking, shrooming, huffing, popping molly, and generally being depressed and suicidal does not equal being sober or in recovery.

Before you listen, know that it is heartbreaking. It will destroy you. If you are easily triggered, please don’t listen to this unless you are very strong now.

If you are struggling with addiction (of ANY kind), depression, bipolar disorder, being in the closet about something, or any other self-destructive issues (some of us struggle with all of the above, I know) please, I beg you, tell someone. I promise you, just getting it off your chest and coming out of your closets will help. You are NOT alone. You are loved. Feel free to email me at kingadam1989@gmail.com or lykeios.lysios@gmail.com OR text/call me (just ask for my number in a comment, in the contact box, or email).

I Walk Like Thunder.

Lyrics

I have this new tattoo of which the story must be told
About the night I almost overdosed ten years ago
I woke up in the hospital with skin clammy and cold
And tubes in my urethra, down my throat and up my nose
My friends and the doctors were all shocked I wasn’t dead
That’s when Katrina looked at me and this is what she said
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
So I walked to the rebel spot, I walked all over uptown
I walked right side up and I walked upside down
I walked to Chetzemoka with my eyes fixed on the ground, yeah
We walked all over Chetze Beach and kept the rocks we found
Then I walked back to my parents’ house, I walked back to my old bed, yeah
I walked back and I walked fast past all the voices in my head
I walked with the sweats and I walked with the chills
I walked in New York City and I walked in Bed-ford Hills
I walked into open mic nights and I walked into the rooms
I walked feeling optimistic and I walked feeling doomed
I walked with some mama’s boys and I walked with some punks
I walked dressed up like a rabbit, I walked dressed up like a skunk
I walked with some givers and I walked with some leeches
I walked all by myself and I walked with the Moldy Peaches
I walked all over the world so I could sing my songs to you
And to your most desperate emails I’d said, “This is what I do”
I walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
But at some point I got so comfortable
That I didn’t even realize that I’d started to crawl
That my old friend Ammi died at 37 of a heart attack
And I cracked ’cause people my age are not supposed to die like that
No, no, no, no, people my age are not supposed to die like that
He was the old manager of the sidewalk cafe
That place was a second home to me, it’s where I learned to play
And his personality really helped create a space
Where a bunch of honest misfits could all gather and feel safe
He was a cynic, a supporter, he was crazy, he was queer
He’d either yell out, “Cut the bullshit” or he’d say, “I’m glad you’re here”
And it was always such an honor to have Ammi on my side
That’s why it hit me like a Mack truck when I found out that he died
Yeah, it hit me like a Mack trucks when I found out that he died
Then enter Alex, 33 years old and so sick with the cancer
And trapped inside a body that betrayed his real gender
We all hoped and prayed that he would go into remission
At least long enough, just long enough to complete his transition
He said, “Kimya, did you know Eleventeen’s my favorite song?”
I said, “Then get your ass on stage right now and you can sing along”
That’s the very first song I ever wrote all by myself
It’s about angels and recovery and friends and hope and health
By the time we finished singing he was pissed off, he was scared
He said, “I lost my home, my lover, my insurance and my hair
And now I’m about to lose you too, my new friend”
I looked into those big blue eyes and said we’ll meet again
Yeah, I looked into his sad blue eyes and said we’ll meet again
Then I got the phone call from Alyssa and she told me he was dying
By the time I got to his bedside we were both already flying
We held hands and we sang songs, tried to be strong floated around
While I cursed the skin that he was in for all the ways it had let him down
Yeah, I cursed the skin that he was in for all the ways it had let him down
But at the same time I was taking my own body for granted
First I lost sight of my feet then they became un-planted
And I never felt so stupid or so selfish or so sad, yeah
My body had been good to me and I treated it so bad, yeah
My body had been good to me and I treated it so bad
Then he said, “Mama, I don’t want my friends to watch me die”
So I kissed his cheek, made him a shirt and then I said goodbye
And they cremated him in the shirt that I drew
Of the two of us that said they’re flying over you too
Now the silver pink ponies have my homie in their crew
So I tightened up my laces and knew what I had to do
I started walking again, I started walking again, I miss my friends
I started walking again, I started walking again, I miss my friends
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
(Walk like thunder)
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
Walk like thunder
Even creeps as a habit, predisposed
To systematically clinging together in the cold
Know the measure of a pack, it’s not a question of the whole
The individuals that bottleneck into the fold
On a March blank Sabbath, news from the ministry of make-believe
That reach a tarmac in Minneapolis, middle see
Yesterday the cells inside his chest were growing baby teeth
Today a raven radiated vacancy
Wait, two years ago a friend of mine
Called me to redefine all enemy-kind
I’m at the hospital at twenty-four and no one knew the future
I’ll take it everybody knows the future
Antibodies hatching in a hellaback with no room to maneuver
Like disappearing pills into the masticated fuchsia
I asked you how you feeling, you told me like a robot
I gave you a Nintendo, you gave yourself a Mohawk
You let us will you down beneath the leaning tower of flow charts
To be around your beats without a beeping sound of Bogart
And speak about whatever people speak about
When nobody’s acknowledging the obvious disease about the crowbar
In deep plane slope, comatose of baggage
From king of hearts to carrying for jackals
And never got to sing us all his own swan song right
Coincidentally the rebel in me walk like thunder
Walk like thunder

Reveries of a Hellenic Jedi

My thoughts on Jediism and Sithism

Novel Writing Festival

Monthly Festival : Turn your book into a movie and get it seen by 1000s of people. Or garner FULL FEEDBACK from publishers on your novel and help your next draft. Or get a transcript video of your novel performed by professional actors.

Glitchy Artist

Screenshots of the Universe

The Seeds 4 Life

Seeds of Inspiration, Wisdom, and Positivity

Be Like Water

Music, Film and Life

Geekritique

Movie & TV News | Book & Comic Reviews | Everything In-between

The Renegade Press

Tales from the mouth of a wolf

%d bloggers like this: