"I used to think when people walk away, you're done. Left. Forgotten. Turns out that's a lie. Even when no one answers the phone, no one shows up, there's still Someone right there. I didn't know it until I had nothing left. Maybe you need to hear it too."If not you then someone you know

"Cant keep me down" Apparently life likes to try. Poems from the dirt,no filter,no quit. Drop in if you have ever been knocked flat & dusted it off, if it hurts,laughs,heals or not it here.

From Southern Baptist drug addict/alcoholic to an exchristian queer hippie farmer in the Bible Belt, join me on this wild ride of life & recovery.

Understanding Reality in a new way by treating entropy as a field, not just a statistical or probabilistic measure of disorder

In the bustle of life and making sandwiches for sticky fingers, the hum of the dishwasher rings loud but love prevails

some places don’t just hold your footsteps. they hold the parts of you that don’t make a sound. these little gravel roads have been keeping those pieces of me for years. gathering them the way fallen leaves gather along the edges, slow and gentle and without asking for anything back.

On 09/09/09, I stepped off a plane into the heavy heat of Managua, unaware my old life was ending. Divorced, drifting, and quietly addicted, I had been bouncing between apartments along Jacksonville’s beaches when an appraisal job introduced me to Frank, a Nicaraguan with deep political ties. After one exploratory surf trip with friends, I saw opportunity beyond the crowded southern Pacific and returned alone to build what would become GreenSurf. Staying in a worn-down quinta, sober and hyper-observant, I began constructing a surf camp business while absorbing a world of diplomats, lumberyards, and Spanish conversations I barely understood. The reset had begun.

Most stories begin with a moment. Mine began with a fall — into addiction, into secrets, into a world run by ghosts and men who never say what they mean. One domino fell, then another — through orphanages, crack epidemics, CIA backchannels, surf camps, corruption, betrayals, machetes, and jail cells. But at the end of it all, this isn’t just a crime saga or political thriller. It’s a love story. An orphaned Florida surfer collided with Cold War shadows in Nicaragua — and found redemption not in power or money, but in the heart of a woman trained to survive horrors of her own. Because sometimes the final revolution isn’t revenge. It’s forgiveness.

February 24th, 5:30 pm on a crowded subway filled with others who don't see my struggle, dreams, contributions, and full humanity yet! Submitting a typed letter for Lisa Yedonorowicz, a Ukrainian-American painter who is based in Minneapolis and has started to document activist profiles across the states ever since the rise of the ICE raids in her current hometown. This letter coincides with a painting she took of me over Zoom a few weeks ago, with the prompts "How are you affected by unrest?" "Are there causes & orgs you are passionate about?" How I felt: I wrote this elaborate note as if it's my last will and testament to hope for a better tomorrow, redeeming myself from the hell I am living in, and yearning to be seen and loved unconditionally. Apparently, this letter, along with the painting, will be published in a book, and featured in an exhibition in a art museum in Iowa. TBD

Ever wonder if there is hope for just little small town, dirt road cruising, bonfire kind of nights, people to have a chance at chasing dreams, making something of their life and having no regrets?

Unclear messaging is the problem and the fix is simpler than you think. Here's the thing most business owners don't realize. Learn from StoryBrand Certified Guide, Lynn Tickner of Ink & Key.

I wake up every day. I give you breakfast. I put clean clothes on your bodies. I say good morning with a smile, even when the walls are caving in.

Disgusted by the state of the world, the main character, Olorin Adegoke, looks for an apprentice and finds it in an unlikely source.

Losing something that made you whole, unapologetic, and happy is now gone and you love life wondering if you'll ever get it back

Few video games have shaped modern gaming culture the way Minecraft has. Since its official release in 2011, the block-building sandbox has become one of the best-selling and most influential games of all time. Developed by Markus Persson (also known as “Notch”) and later acquired by Microsoft in 2014, Minecraft continues to evolve with regular updates and a massive global community.

Why do Atheists and Materialists always run away? TJ Berens either asked or answered this question on Quora. “What evidence establishes the human-chimp divergence date, what generation time applies to the hominin lineage, and what total number of generations T do those two values produce? TJ is an Aerospace Defense Consultant.

Cultural Sociologist, Institute for Urban Culture “The rise in feminine visibility isn’t just about fashion. It’s about a generational renegotiation of masculinity. Our 2026 data indicates that over 60% of young Polish men have experimented with gender-nonconforming elements in style. That’s historically unprecedented in this country.”

A wise mother beamed with pride as her daughter graduated with honors. "You've earned this," she said, slipping a simple, tarnished ring onto her daughter's finger.

This article examines how God of War Ragnarök treats prophecy not as mystical truth, but as a system for managing behavior. Fate functions as infrastructure: by convincing gods and mortals that the ending is inevitable, the system narrows choice and turns resistance into compliance. Odin weaponizes information and narrative control, while prophecy limits imagination more effectively than force. Kratos threatens this structure by refusing narrative finality, while Atreus initially believes understanding prophecy will grant agency. The game reveals that “fate” is often just predictable behavior under stable incentives—and that the system collapses when characters stop performing inevitability. Ragnarök isn’t destiny fulfilled; it’s inevitability disrupted by unmanageable human choice.

The cruel truth of growing up a girl in this age. How no one is ever good enough, never allowed to be themselves.