When dream and reality merge, where do we land? A far off place that is at once foreign and all too familiar…

A short story in a surreal dream world, where one man must accept life, even though it’s his life that he doesn’t remember.

Before reading, know that, at least physically, I am not any of these things.

A short surreal poem.

Based on a dream of mine, I created this story mainly for the fun of it, with a bit of a unique writing style which I like to think of as a "write the way you talk" style. If you like cloaked figures named Bob who may or may not be vampires, and six foot tall purple pigeons that drive buses and make incredibly random animal sounds, this is the story for you.

A quick scrawl of an idea that came to mind whilst thinking of another idea.

A rather original way of recounting the pursuit of love…surreal.

French and that’s about it on my part.

I was deeply saddened by the shock death of Michael Jackson. I had grown up in the 80’s listening to his music and always admired him and his art. I felt this poem was only a snippet of the affect his death had on me.

A display of music from the heart and soul in its depth and undenying love of a story untold…