Suicide is a casting director seeking actors for a one-act play. The search is advertised in depression’s darkness. Many showcase their talent within the darkness, ignoring a persistent stage fright, sometimes misinterpreted as happiness, as they try to convince Hopelessness, the play’s a… Read full post »

The weekend is over. Saturday’s warmth and Sunday’s chilling rain are now a collage of sensory images I will process and adapt to as this Monday progresses. Still I’m haunted as my day begins. But for a simple look my brother gave his son on Saturday, I wouldn’t be thinking of… Read full post »

Last night I made a decision to stop blogging on Open Salon. I went to bed convinced this decision was sound—the right thing for me to do. Why? The answer is simple: I’m a writer. I put my thoughts to words in hopes of creating art that will inspire, provoke thought… Read full post »

Another book has been written. In a special tenth-anniversary edition, the challenge to find Waldo continues: new places, new scenes with new characters to hunt for. Waldo, when is enough enough? You try to hide within the crowd, but you’re always found. Be it at a beach,… Read full post »

Sometimes words aren’t easy to come by. I power up my brain, thinking of what I want to write of, but I get all trance like as if in a sleepwalk. Today is no exception. Reflection is not just a mirror image; it’s reconsideration—careful thought… Read full post »

Inspiration often mumbles some kind of inside joke, laughing at me until its vexation shouts out perplexing antidotal hyperbole to which I’m hopelessly immune. So, I retreat inwards until retrospection knocks at my door. I welcome such interruptions; my enthusiasm sometimes engages too strongly… Read full post »

Today there’s a storm forming outside. Rain is coming; thunderstorms are predicted. Sometimes rain is good for it cleanses the air. But my heart is focused on another storm—intolerance. The air needs to be purified.

Choice… we all exercise it. Freedom… we all espouse its vi… Read full post »

The sun is hot. I sit by the pool listening to the vacated water singing an adolescent’s enjoyment. Screams of enjoyment emanate from innocence; clear chlorinated water ripples a seduction. I want to jump into that water—my leap a baptism of renewal. But I see you lurking beneath the wate… Read full post »

A grey sky is offering nothing but painted paisanos the ability to suffuse the brilliance that once was the day. The cards displayed reveal the takers getting the honey, givers singing the blues; people trapped by fear steering clear of the pain. Do you hear them? They are only coming through/… Read full post »

After a month, Winky oriented well to life at Cedarcrest. His trust in staff grew; his interaction with other patients was uneventful. There are no secrets at Cedarcrest. Patients knew what Winky was accused of: TV news reports, staff gossip, and the acute ability of some patients to listen in on… Read full post »

Today it’s cold and damp—a good day to sit by a fire, just relax and soothe my aching bones. The fire generates an orange glow; its flame’s heat mollifies my body’s pain. Oh my friend, my fire, I’m older now; my thoughts intensify just as your orange glow does its seduct… Read full post »

I wasn’t going to write about you today. It’s your birthday; do they celebrate such occasions in Hell? Why the stupid question, isn’t that what you’d ask me, or should I inquire about it in the verbiage you ingrained into my consciousness, accented with your fists, kicks, s… Read full post »

Do you believe love can transcend time?  Do you believe lament taunts anguish as the seasons welcome the years—centuries? Soon we will be celebrating our nation's independence: fireworks, cookouts, parades and perhaps a ponderation of history will be a part of the festivities. The call to/… Read full post »

Constipation can be oh so annoying. Cramping intermixed with bloating does irritate, if not circumvent purposeful fodder. I’m speaking not in the intestinal but beyond the bowel, my brain is blocked; I need relief. Metamucil is meaningless, so is helium. What to do? Perhaps I could generate som/… Read full post »

Mondays oh sweet Mondays. I know it’s Tuesday, but my mind is still on Monday time. Why? Well, let me fire up the iTunes, release the groove, digest syncopated rhythms, then divulge all that was my Monday.

Have you ever seen a flying squirrel, pissed, intent on revenge for interrupting… Read full post »

Señor Sol came softly through my window telling me I could find any trick in the book with the help of the Green Lantern and Superman. Confusion compelled me to act mellow; I asked Señor Sol to calm down, but he screamed like an angry whale, “No more will my green/… Read full post »

It’s early in the morning. Dawn is about to waken the birds. Soon life will enter the daylight, but here I am sitting at my MacBook pondering a former patient of mine. Why him? I haven’t thought of Winky (not his real name) in years. But now I revisit the fate… Read full post »

My ex-wife number two called me out of habit to engage in contentious conversation. She likes to tweak my irk. That’s okay, ‘cause my irk is often lonely. I know this because many think I don’t know that I know this. It’s like the sunshine bringing down a snowman on a/… Read full post »

Some turmoil is nesting within the calmness of the Open Salon community. Do you sense it? Do you read it? Do you avoid it? What’s this disruptive commotion that I write of? It’s insensitivity, a virus that’s invading the decency of all who aspire, inspire, and write within broadband… Read full post »

Winky’s treatment plan didn’t require an advanced degree in psychology to implement. He was to be observed, medicated, and charted on. Since he was admitted as a court-hold pending a competency hearing, Winky’s world would revolve around staff discretion: patient interaction, freedo… Read full post »

Death has laughed at me many times, sometimes from distance, other times slapping me on the shoulder proclaiming, “Ain’t this a hoot?”

Death’s hilarity eludes me. Don’t get me wrong, I love humor, shit, sometimes my humor-mode kicks in when I’m writing, talking to… Read full post »

A mosquito buzzed by my ear enlightening me with the knowledge that karma is really Rice Krispie Treats dipped in Kaopectate. Intrigued, I listened for more wisdom; she bit me, not injecting itch, but releasing a profound thought that the universe tastes of raspberry and smells like 150 Proof/… Read full post »

Sometimes we take faith just on faith. Why is faith and religion battling in my brain; the war zone paltering with voices I can’t comprehend.  People please, I’m not a dogma kind of guy; my belief system has coveted complete mystification. So, I ask a simple/… Read full post »

Sometimes secrecy serves a purpose. A good ruse is necessary to fool those who think they know the obvious. Well the time has come to divulge all; my attorney RonP01 double-checked the pre-nup: my internet marriage to MiddleAgedWomanBlogging can now be revealed. I wanted her to write about/… Read full post »

A monarch butterfly floated down from the purple haze attaching itself to my shoulder. He spoke to me in Mandarin: his accent heavy with marmalade inflections. I listened; his orange citrus breath smelled like Febreze—antimicrobial scented. The news he spoke of saddened me. I told this t/… Read full post »