How many million-dollar ideas have you lost because you were in the shower or driving? We fail to capture ideas because we try to organize them in the moment—we think about where it should go. This is a fatal mistake. You must separate the act of capture from the act of organization...

This blog has main description of me travelling to different country and how I felt about it and how things fall into the places. It tells about me leaving and landing at another place across sea and I am thrilled but I want to crawl back to my home. But it is a mature decision not to do so!

People ask me sometimes why I write all this down. Why stir up the past? Why bother telling stories from a county most folks can’t point to on a map? Truth is, I grew up in a place where the stories were louder than the people. Nahunta wasn’t just a dot between Waycross and Brunswick. It was its own world—a crossroads of old ways, family codes, and traditions held together by grandmother hands and gossip strong enough to travel through walls. My childhood wasn’t perfect. Lord, no. But it was full—full of characters, full of lessons, full of women who didn’t give a damn if the modern world approved of their methods. They were the guardians of the old rules. The enforcers of truth. Daddy was the cornerstone. Mawmaw was the steel beam. Granny was the one who could comfort and correct in the same sentence. This blog is my love letter to them. My apology for the times I didn’t listen. My gratitude for the times they didn’t give up on me.

Your inbox is not a to-do list, it's a delivery system. The "Inbox Zero" obsession is a waste of time. The goal isn't zero; it's control. The 3-Folder Triage is the fastest system to process 100 emails in 20 minutes, ensuring you only touch each email once...

This is a poem out of my book NOSTALGIC MADNESS to get a copy email hiimadam4321@gmail.com many more poems to come....remember you are not alone and the struggles we face everyday can be expressed through the positivity of art. In times of pain hear the whispers of those around you who have also suffered.

this note is going to be about personal growth and how to have a healthy lifestyle that keeps you going!!

Procrastination is the cost of perfectionism. We delay starting because the task feels too big. The 5-Minute Rule is a cognitive trick that bypasses this mental block. It’s a simple promise you make to yourself that instantly lowers the barrier to entry and builds unstoppable momentum...

That grief had carved out spaces in me I never filled back in. That losing people I loved—some to death, some to distance, some to silence—had carved my edges softer, blurred me until I wasn’t sure where I stopped and the rest of the world began

Just wake up and open your eyes.. tell me when will you.. if you... if you for once will ever slow down

How to Connect With Donors When the Economy Feels Hostile: Notes on Uncertainty, Generosity, and the Politics of Nonprofit Survival in 2026 The year 2026 arrives not as a marker of progress but as a reminder of the elasticity of crisis. Inflation has become a kind of national background noise—persistent, dull, and impossible to tune out. Economic forecasters talk about “cooling” in the cautious tone one uses to describe a fever that has lowered by a degree but still threatens what it inhabits. For nonprofits, especially those that survive on the thin membrane between donor optimism and donor fatigue, this is the landscape: ambient anxiety, deferred generosity, the ever-present suspicion that giving—once a gesture of civic participation—is now a luxury.

Morning found me the way a cautious friend does—soft footsteps, gentle voice, standin’ just far enough away not to scare me back into my shell. Light eased through my curtains like warm fingertips, and for a moment I lay there, listenin’ to the quiet hum of a house that ain’t used to a heart beatin’ this awake.

same old cracks, same splinters, but the wood seemed to lean into me, as if sayin’, “Alright, baby. Day One was recognition. Day Two is reckonin’.”

Its about women who finds her husband cheating and yet has no clue what to do. Now the 3 part will only be a wild ride .

I didn’t plan to sit on the bottom step today. Didn’t plan to take stock of my life like I was counting coins on a church fan. But life has a way of cornering you right where the truth can see your face, and the step seemed to know somethin’ I didn’t.

Occultism, Magic, and Hermetics To speak of Occultism, Magic, and Hermetics is to speak of the hidden architecture of existence—the subtle web of laws and principles that shape both the cosmos and the human soul. Often misunderstood or dismissed, these disciplines invite us to look beyond the material world perceived by the senses and pierce the veil that separates the visible from the invisible recognizing that all things are bound by a living, intelligent order. Though often misrepresented in the modern age, they remain the perennial foundation for those seeking wisdom that transcends dogma, culture, and time.

A narrative about a suicide attempt to show awareness and that there is light at the end of the tunnel

Searching for a file costs the average executive minutes every day—that's hours annually. The 'Find-It-In-5' System eliminates this waste by mandating a strict, simple naming structure that makes every file instantly searchable across all cloud platforms. This structure is built on three core attributes—[Date-Client-ProjectStatus]—that instantly organize your entire digital workspace. Here is the exact 3-part naming convention and a quick setup guide that...

“A raw, emotional journey through judgment, loss, and isolation told through vivid journal entries. From the heartbreaking day a mother’s children were taken, to the crushing silence of an empty home, and finally the slow climb toward hope and healing. This series reveals the struggle behind closed doors and the resilience that rises from brokenness.”

1. Welcome to My Vault: A Writer's Introduction I am from Canada, and I have been a writer for almost a decade.

I was loved and then left, used and then forgotten, moving forward with whatever pieces I had left of myself. It took losing so much to understand how cruel the world can be—how easily people take from you and walk away as if you were never there. But somewhere between breaking and becoming, I found a touch that didn’t hurt, a presence that didn’t use me, a moment that finally saved me. And for the first time, I wasn’t surviving for someone—I was choosing myself.