How do they say, if you can’t say something nice… etc but I suppose that rule never really applies when you’re talking about me. Over the past few weeks I have been thinking, dreaming, and attempting to end my life but all I seem to hear is the same trash and never, I suppose angels singing. She’s Singing Now is me waiting for the fat lady to sing so I can finally leave this place… if only pretty girls would sing to me SIGH.

Things only dreams are made of:

Poems using synonyms.

What happens when a visit to a house and the story behind it goes all wrong. A short story.

About a sweet encounter with a cute and petite woman with fire in her beauty at a Starbucks coffee shop in Providence.

A refuge a man can find when a woman enters his life even for just a short time.