bluetooth connections from the grave



I pull open the car door. Climb in. All the soft blurred in shape lines of my body settle into the soft worn blurred in shape contours of the leather seat. Feel the cold steel metal of the key in my hand as I slide it into the ignition, and turn. The machine stretches and yawns and let’s out a low rumble as it awakens and comes to life.

I sit for a moment in the silent cocoon of the space. Feeling the car stretch and shake out all its limbs. Feeling the vibration of the engine as it pulsates through metal and plastic and leather and skin and muscle and bone.

Silently, and without hesitation, phone and car reach out and search for each other. Mysteriously connecting over the airwaves. Desperate to feel the fingertip touch of current and connection. A heartbeat that allows them to communicate.

I’m sure I haven’t turned on the Bluetooth on my phone.

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let’s talk about it

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You’re going to die one day. I know, I know. You don’t want to read this. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to acknowledge that. But it’s pure truth. Not morbid. Just real honest this is how this life shit works. We live. And then we die.

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fire breathing words


That feeling you get when your first story starts forming in your head. In your heart. In your body.

The words stream across your mind like a blurry old silent black & white film reel when you close your eyes. You feel sounds become words. Dissociated at first. No order. Just whizzing by like the shots of machine gun fire. Random words working hard to string together and form into cohesive thoughts.

Letters flowing through your veins. Mixing with your oxygen your blood your plasma your marrow your tears your saliva. Picking up tissue and cells along the way. Pieces of you. Ripping them away from you.

Colliding. Combining. Dividing. Multiplying.

Words that bring up feelings that bring up more words. More feelings.

Memories. Whispers. Screams. Tears. Truths.

Colliding. Combining. Dividing. Multiplying.

Senseless at first. Growing bolder and stronger and louder. Taking on a life of their own. Escaping your body through your breath your pores your sweat. Oozing.

Breathing words like breathing fire. Heat and flames. Igniting. Searing.

Swirling. Breathing. Multiplying. Screaming. Burning. Fighting.

Forcing their way to the page. Fighting for their life. For their chance to tell their story.