For millenniums religion has destroyed our world; attempts to spread religious doctrine has ended in more death than belief. So why do we keep going at it, when the truth is, there is no ONE shared truth to be had?

Absolutely no one (human) on this earth knows the details of where we came from, and where we are headed to.

I was taught in grad school that if you believed in God, you were weak and walked life with a crutch of ignorance. Which speaks to the societal perception that those who believe in God are uneducated, brainwashed and a bit culty.

However, in order for me to proceed with a loving, balanced and meaningful life, I must settle on some form of truth that works for me and my current existence: a higher power of my own understanding.

So, what I believe about my maker/s, no one else on this earth believes; what I believe is personal, and sometimes quite private. And I recognize that I am wrong, on probably most counts. But it’s my Protective Psychological Construct; and it’s not my crutch, it’s my sword.

I propose an Era of Belief that allows everyone to develop their own personal Protective Psychological Construct, without judgment. DO NOT TELL US what to believe, and DO NOT TELL US what we believe is wrong; just allow us to discover our truth.

Together we can love many different Higher Powers, 

but apart we only judge many different Devils.

A wrinkled old woman

with nowhere to go

waits in her room 

on the seventeenth floor.

Her apartment is empty

and so is her mind.

She stares past grey walls

at the black, moonless night.

What she sees there is strange

but she isn't afraid

She always has known 

it would happen someday:

Eight legged creatures,

faceless and dark,

seep into her room

and feast on her heart.

The cockroach skitters across the floor. I spray it with bug killer.

Suddenly dizziness overcomes me and I black out.

Sometime later I regain consciousness. Opening my eyes, the floor seems too close. Looking down, I see my segmented body. I try to scream as I wiggle my six legs.

Never again,

I say

slamming the door

on my way

out.

you call my name

during the day

I will not falter

I will not break

but then you

caress my face

and I come

crawling back.

Dear Mike,

do you remember

late one night

I found your number

so I called you.

You were High

and I was Drunk

but jesuschrist we

talked for hours. I

used to worry

You were stationed

in Japan 

While it was 

safer than Iraq

I know Marines die

all the time.

That thing that you 

won't talk about

won't even

say her name

I think she killed you

more effectively

than any fight on 

any battle ground.

sometimes I think

you and me

might have been

good together

but you're like my

little brother.

I don't think you've 

changed your number

but I cannot seem to 

reach you anymore

it's like you've morphed

become a ghost

So I just wait

and hope someday

you'll manifest

at my front door

until then,

sincerely yours