As humans with relatively high intelligence and what we think to be pretty good instincts, we like to think we are in control of the world. But the fact of the matter is, we cannot stop one drop of rain from falling, one strong wind from blowing, one volcano from erupting, or even one person from dying. We have no idea what will happen tomorrow….

Where is its worth?

I’m a real… something; a boy, a man, most of the time I would settle for not being noticed at all, because the people who see me don’t treat me as good, alive, or real. There was a time that with just words and an Internet connection I could sweep a girl off her feet or off her chair. “Pinocchio Goes Wireless” is me wondering how it would be like to be real, to be with a real girl and not another loser staring at the screen dreaming…

A poem based on a zombie’s dream.

A bit of a n auto-biographical piece, the brunt of self-loathing.

An inspirational poem.

Part one of puppet and puppeteer.

Just a toy.

A big brother plays dress-up with his little sister.

Being or thinking differently by Simonne Liberty.