The Wry Ginner

Deep Thoughts from the Parking Lot

Every person that I know tries to hold their self up in some way that has relevance to how they…

108 Years: An Informal Letter to Chicago

It’s seven PM on a Thursday. I’m sitting inside of my Chandler abode while staring out the window at some…

Insomnia

Sometimes he didn’t even want to write, even though thoughts were bursting out at a speed unfathomed. The crippling depression…

True Love

There is an orangish tint across the street that I keep leaning over to stare at. It focuses on four…

Growing Older

I wish there was that quiet place on the edge of the patio that still coddled my innocent thoughts. I…

A Night of the Approaching Mourning

I am sitting in front of this damn computer with a barren mind. I need a shot, hold on…that didn’t…

Too Many Thoughts to Write

I can’t quite figure it out. I sit here with hundreds of ideas running through my head. Yet, not one…

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