Mrjdhyde
They call me Hyde. I write a little. Some on Amazon, some on WordPress, maybe livejournal.
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Written by Mrjdhyde

The old men

My new friend could speak no English, and I no tongues he knew.

  

So we sat on the stoop drinking coffee in the mornings, and wine at night.

We would tell long stories of our lives, the other smiling as we spoke. Hand gestures and laughs trying to get our points across a chasm of alcohol and language.

Just a couple old men. Tell stories to the unknowing because no one else would listen.

Old men's stories of lost women and jobs. Of wins and loses. We knew of the others sadness, of being old and alone.

One morning my friend didn't show. I sat there, watching the coffee I brought for him grow cold.

I went to check on him. The way I hoped someone cared enough to check on me one day.

I found what I expected. When you're past a certain age it happens to everyone you know.

A Potter's field, a hole with no name. Just a preacher and me. Holding a bottle of wine, for one last good time with my last good friend.

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Written by Mrjdhyde
The old men
My new friend could speak no English, and I no tongues he knew.
  
So we sat on the stoop drinking coffee in the mornings, and wine at night.

We would tell long stories of our lives, the other smiling as we spoke. Hand gestures and laughs trying to get our points across a chasm of alcohol and language.

Just a couple old men. Tell stories to the unknowing because no one else would listen.

Old men's stories of lost women and jobs. Of wins and loses. We knew of the others sadness, of being old and alone.

One morning my friend didn't show. I sat there, watching the coffee I brought for him grow cold.

I went to check on him. The way I hoped someone cared enough to check on me one day.

I found what I expected. When you're past a certain age it happens to everyone you know.

A Potter's field, a hole with no name. Just a preacher and me. Holding a bottle of wine, for one last good time with my last good friend.
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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by Mrjdhyde in portal Stream of Consciousness

Two words of terror.

The two words of terror.

There are two words that instill terror in every man’s heart, These words can be said in any language and they translate perfectly into fear.

The words have been known to make entire bar rooms of fighting bikers sit and sip their drinks as if it were a sunday social. These words that men fear more than we fear a rabid divorce attorney? “I’m fine”

Just typing these words made my rectum tighten quick enough to cause structural damage. Because as all men know, the mere uttering of these words spell doom, Yes doom I say!

For after these words are said we will spend the rest of our night going over everything we have done for the last month, looking for anything that the woman who said it might find aggravating. Going over each conversation, counting each missed chore, searching our lives for mistakes, the way a fat kid searches the kitchen for cookies.

These doom words, are the defcon 1 of a relationship. They are the way a woman tells us “Dude, you have fucked up so badly that I’m at a loss for words.”

When a man hears these words there is only one thing left to do. Apologize. 

It doesn’t matter that you don’t know what you are apologizing for, just apologize. Figure that shit out later, apologize now. Say these words: “Baby, I’m wrong, I’m sorry, and it will never happen again.”

Tomorrow you can sit down and figure out what you will never be doing again. today say the words, give her ice cream and hope. Hope that the woman doesn’t kill you as you sleep.

Let us have a moment of silence for all of our fallen brothers who did not heed the words of doom in time.

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According to a 2017 study done by me, stardustfalling (PhD in imagination, depression, and depressing poetry), "I'm fine" is the most commonly told lie in the world. Write about it, in any format you choose.
Written by Mrjdhyde in portal Stream of Consciousness
Two words of terror.
The two words of terror.
There are two words that instill terror in every man’s heart, These words can be said in any language and they translate perfectly into fear.
The words have been known to make entire bar rooms of fighting bikers sit and sip their drinks as if it were a sunday social. These words that men fear more than we fear a rabid divorce attorney? “I’m fine”
Just typing these words made my rectum tighten quick enough to cause structural damage. Because as all men know, the mere uttering of these words spell doom, Yes doom I say!
For after these words are said we will spend the rest of our night going over everything we have done for the last month, looking for anything that the woman who said it might find aggravating. Going over each conversation, counting each missed chore, searching our lives for mistakes, the way a fat kid searches the kitchen for cookies.
These doom words, are the defcon 1 of a relationship. They are the way a woman tells us “Dude, you have fucked up so badly that I’m at a loss for words.”
When a man hears these words there is only one thing left to do. Apologize. 
It doesn’t matter that you don’t know what you are apologizing for, just apologize. Figure that shit out later, apologize now. Say these words: “Baby, I’m wrong, I’m sorry, and it will never happen again.”
Tomorrow you can sit down and figure out what you will never be doing again. today say the words, give her ice cream and hope. Hope that the woman doesn’t kill you as you sleep.
Let us have a moment of silence for all of our fallen brothers who did not heed the words of doom in time.
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What is passion? Describe what passion means to you.
Written by Mrjdhyde

Embers

People think of the flames of the first.

The burn of the first kiss.

The heat of the first night.

But passion isn't in the flame.

Heat comes from the embers.

Once the flames die, and it seems the fire is gone…

You can break open the log and find the center, still white hot.

Within that burning ember where no flames live.

There lives the passion.

Passion with enough love to stay for years.

Of staying when you're angry.

Of saying no to others who try to fan the desire for themselves.

Years of being just the two.  

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What is passion? Describe what passion means to you.
Written by Mrjdhyde
Embers
People think of the flames of the first.
The burn of the first kiss.
The heat of the first night.
But passion isn't in the flame.
Heat comes from the embers.
Once the flames die, and it seems the fire is gone…
You can break open the log and find the center, still white hot.
Within that burning ember where no flames live.
There lives the passion.
Passion with enough love to stay for years.
Of staying when you're angry.
Of saying no to others who try to fan the desire for themselves.
Years of being just the two.  
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You've just won a recording-setting lottery...what do you do next? 150 coins for the most inventive non-rhyming response.
Written by Mrjdhyde

If I won...

After I do the obvious things, like have models rub peanut butter all over me while calling me a 'bad monkey’, bringing Mike Tyson to my high school reunion to talk to some people, and cold call all of my exes and tell them the good news. I would probably have to do a few things on my bucket list.

Egg Stephen King's house.

Slap around Dan Brown.

After that I would probably just be a writer until I was broke again.   

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You've just won a recording-setting lottery...what do you do next? 150 coins for the most inventive non-rhyming response.
Written by Mrjdhyde
If I won...
After I do the obvious things, like have models rub peanut butter all over me while calling me a 'bad monkey’, bringing Mike Tyson to my high school reunion to talk to some people, and cold call all of my exes and tell them the good news. I would probably have to do a few things on my bucket list.
Egg Stephen King's house.
Slap around Dan Brown.
After that I would probably just be a writer until I was broke again.   
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Written by Mrjdhyde

On using Trigger warnings..

I deal with some ugly issues. In life and in my writing. I deal with rape, suicide, murder, sexual harassment, and just general assholiness. And these are very ugly things. They WILL make you uncomfortable. They will horrify you. Good, these things should.

It is not my job to protect you from the emotion that reading about them may cause. When out in the world we often see things that bother us. We accept that it isn't up to other people to change their behavior to suit us. We call this “Adulting”.

I do realize that some people have been traumatized in life. And I'm sorry, so have I. I work hard putting it behind me, learning to live with my past. This process is called “growing up”.

If you come to my home with an allergy to cologne it is not my job to remove the cologne. Or to put up a sign saying there is cologne in use. It's your job to stay away from cologne.

It is the same with writing. It is not my job not to write things that may offend or trigger you. It is your job to stop reading once you find something disturbs you. This is “taking control of your life”.  

Sometimes I am asked if I worry that children could be reading the horrible things that I write. My answer is no, if a child is on the Internet then it's that child's parents job to make sure that the child stays away from adult material. This is "parenting".

My one job as a writer is to give you something to read. And hopefully cause an emotional response. If the response is hatred because I forced you to think... I can live with it.

You can send me hate mail. It would give me something to laugh at.

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Written by Mrjdhyde
On using Trigger warnings..
I deal with some ugly issues. In life and in my writing. I deal with rape, suicide, murder, sexual harassment, and just general assholiness. And these are very ugly things. They WILL make you uncomfortable. They will horrify you. Good, these things should.

It is not my job to protect you from the emotion that reading about them may cause. When out in the world we often see things that bother us. We accept that it isn't up to other people to change their behavior to suit us. We call this “Adulting”.

I do realize that some people have been traumatized in life. And I'm sorry, so have I. I work hard putting it behind me, learning to live with my past. This process is called “growing up”.

If you come to my home with an allergy to cologne it is not my job to remove the cologne. Or to put up a sign saying there is cologne in use. It's your job to stay away from cologne.

It is the same with writing. It is not my job not to write things that may offend or trigger you. It is your job to stop reading once you find something disturbs you. This is “taking control of your life”.  

Sometimes I am asked if I worry that children could be reading the horrible things that I write. My answer is no, if a child is on the Internet then it's that child's parents job to make sure that the child stays away from adult material. This is "parenting".

My one job as a writer is to give you something to read. And hopefully cause an emotional response. If the response is hatred because I forced you to think... I can live with it.

You can send me hate mail. It would give me something to laugh at.
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I got this idea from a poetry workshop I went to yesterday: Write a poem about what your words do. "My words change" or "My words never lie" for example. Make it as creative as you want! And tag me @LiberalPoet.
Written by Mrjdhyde in portal Poetry & Free Verse

My words.

Give me truth, let me find wisdom.

This is my search, my hearts desire.

My poets heart, it needs something real.

Something that it can hold as true.

As true friendship, true love.  

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I got this idea from a poetry workshop I went to yesterday: Write a poem about what your words do. "My words change" or "My words never lie" for example. Make it as creative as you want! And tag me @LiberalPoet.
Written by Mrjdhyde in portal Poetry & Free Verse
My words.
Give me truth, let me find wisdom.
This is my search, my hearts desire.
My poets heart, it needs something real.
Something that it can hold as true.
As true friendship, true love.  
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Written by Mrjdhyde

Her name was Anime.

It was one of the best summers of my life. I had a job that paid well, good weather, a good running motorcycle.

I met a very nice lady online. Her name was Kim but I called her Anime, after a story I wrote.

Anime was beautiful, I thought she was a scam when we first talked. Why would a woman like that talk to me? She was not only beautiful, but SMART, and fun to talk to.

She gave me one night of sex. Apparently I wasn't what she wanted because she never wanted me again. But we remained friends for that summer. I would text her, and if she wasn't busy, I would swing by. She would jump on the back and we would go for a ride. I loved it. We would park in the mountains and talk.

The summer slipped away and so did my friend. She came into my work a few times and we chatted.

But the last time I saw her, I yelled for her and all I could think of was the nickname. She looked so hurt "You don't even remember my name?" She asked. And for the two seconds she was there I couldn't.

I had never felt so small, so like everything that was wrong with men. I hurt someone I cared about and I couldn't let her know. If I could find her I know what I would say.

"I know your name. You're my friend. You mean so much."

Hyde.  

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Written by Mrjdhyde
Her name was Anime.
It was one of the best summers of my life. I had a job that paid well, good weather, a good running motorcycle.
I met a very nice lady online. Her name was Kim but I called her Anime, after a story I wrote.
Anime was beautiful, I thought she was a scam when we first talked. Why would a woman like that talk to me? She was not only beautiful, but SMART, and fun to talk to.
She gave me one night of sex. Apparently I wasn't what she wanted because she never wanted me again. But we remained friends for that summer. I would text her, and if she wasn't busy, I would swing by. She would jump on the back and we would go for a ride. I loved it. We would park in the mountains and talk.

The summer slipped away and so did my friend. She came into my work a few times and we chatted.

But the last time I saw her, I yelled for her and all I could think of was the nickname. She looked so hurt "You don't even remember my name?" She asked. And for the two seconds she was there I couldn't.
I had never felt so small, so like everything that was wrong with men. I hurt someone I cared about and I couldn't let her know. If I could find her I know what I would say.

"I know your name. You're my friend. You mean so much."

Hyde.  
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Written by Mrjdhyde

List of books I'm trying to write.

List of books I'm trying to write.

Prometheus child. (Series)

Urban fantasy, murder mystery set in a small mountain town.

Prometheus child 2

Urban fantasy, trying to save woman from serial killer.

Michael Sullivan.

Fiction, man finds his wife committed suicide and him trying to live afterwards.

House of cousins.

Childrens, rather odd family and house.

BDSM for 'nillas.

Nonfiction, answering questions about and dispelling the myths of BDSM.

Wordsmith. (Series)

Fantasy, Wordsmith and Wrangler trying to find the killer of a little boy. 

Butterfly man. (Series)

Fiction, super geniuses secretly run the world. One is trying to find a serial killer. (Name comes from adage butterfly flaps his wings and causes hurricane)

Butterfly man 2,

Horror Fiction, short stories involving a shared universe leading to joined story. (Meant to be a graphic novel, but I can't draw.)

Oddly enough, this is not a full list. My goal is 500 words a day on this list, starting with 'Prometheus child'. I will keep it updated. They are complete in my head, but I don't have a reason to type them. So I'm giving myself one.

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Written by Mrjdhyde
List of books I'm trying to write.
List of books I'm trying to write.

Prometheus child. (Series)
Urban fantasy, murder mystery set in a small mountain town.

Prometheus child 2
Urban fantasy, trying to save woman from serial killer.

Michael Sullivan.
Fiction, man finds his wife committed suicide and him trying to live afterwards.

House of cousins.
Childrens, rather odd family and house.

BDSM for 'nillas.
Nonfiction, answering questions about and dispelling the myths of BDSM.

Wordsmith. (Series)
Fantasy, Wordsmith and Wrangler trying to find the killer of a little boy. 

Butterfly man. (Series)
Fiction, super geniuses secretly run the world. One is trying to find a serial killer. (Name comes from adage butterfly flaps his wings and causes hurricane)

Butterfly man 2,
Horror Fiction, short stories involving a shared universe leading to joined story. (Meant to be a graphic novel, but I can't draw.)

Oddly enough, this is not a full list. My goal is 500 words a day on this list, starting with 'Prometheus child'. I will keep it updated. They are complete in my head, but I don't have a reason to type them. So I'm giving myself one.
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Written by Mrjdhyde in portal Comedy

Hyde got high.

As everyone knows, I do not partake in the botanical pleasures. Just not my bag, man. At one time it was. Actually when I quit the entire Mexican economy shifted, two villages closed completely. They were sending me pictures of their starving children. It was sad.

What? Oh yeah, but my friends do. One time, Kabuki girl was hanging out with me. We were watching TV, and she asked "Do you mind if I?" Me, being a man of the world, of course allowed it. She does her thing and sets her pipe down. I look at it,and look at it, and it began to call to me. "Yo Hyde, it's your old friend MJ. Come say hello." Now I abhor rudeness, so I decided to greet my old friend.

So I pick up Mr pipe, I take a hit. Smiled, then took another. Then I looked at Kabuki girl and said

"shake your dealers hand for me."

She then helped me to bed.

You see sometime in the last 20 years some Frankenstein/botanist motherfucker threw some science on the weed and cranked that shit to 11! I'm not sure who he is but he scares me.

I began talking. I'm not sure how much of this I verbalized or how much I just thought I did but this what I remember "I'd have sex with you if I could feel my sack, but I cant, I'm old, my sack sags, really bad, its sad, I can tuck my sack into my sock, I could tuck one into each sock and jump off buildings, and fly like a squirrel, I could get a luchedore mask and fight crime like that, what would the commissioner use as a sack signal? What would my name be? Sack man? Would you like to fight crime with me?" This is about all I remember, I think Kabuki girl may have put a pillow over my head at that point.

I have to go now, the commissioner decided to just text.

Hyde

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Written by Mrjdhyde in portal Comedy
Hyde got high.

As everyone knows, I do not partake in the botanical pleasures. Just not my bag, man. At one time it was. Actually when I quit the entire Mexican economy shifted, two villages closed completely. They were sending me pictures of their starving children. It was sad.
What? Oh yeah, but my friends do. One time, Kabuki girl was hanging out with me. We were watching TV, and she asked "Do you mind if I?" Me, being a man of the world, of course allowed it. She does her thing and sets her pipe down. I look at it,and look at it, and it began to call to me. "Yo Hyde, it's your old friend MJ. Come say hello." Now I abhor rudeness, so I decided to greet my old friend.
So I pick up Mr pipe, I take a hit. Smiled, then took another. Then I looked at Kabuki girl and said
"shake your dealers hand for me."
She then helped me to bed.
You see sometime in the last 20 years some Frankenstein/botanist motherfucker threw some science on the weed and cranked that shit to 11! I'm not sure who he is but he scares me.
I began talking. I'm not sure how much of this I verbalized or how much I just thought I did but this what I remember "I'd have sex with you if I could feel my sack, but I cant, I'm old, my sack sags, really bad, its sad, I can tuck my sack into my sock, I could tuck one into each sock and jump off buildings, and fly like a squirrel, I could get a luchedore mask and fight crime like that, what would the commissioner use as a sack signal? What would my name be? Sack man? Would you like to fight crime with me?" This is about all I remember, I think Kabuki girl may have put a pillow over my head at that point.
I have to go now, the commissioner decided to just text.

Hyde
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Written by Mrjdhyde

Break my heart tomorrow.

You can break my heart tomorrow.

But tonight we will play.

We will pretend we are in love, and mad with it.

Tonight, tonight we will use each other,

be drunk on each other.

We will laugh at the world and their rights and wrongs.

We will lay and laugh from now to until noonlight blinds us.

We won't think about what's real until they make us.

But that is tomorrow.

Tonight we are together.  

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Written by Mrjdhyde
Break my heart tomorrow.
You can break my heart tomorrow.
But tonight we will play.
We will pretend we are in love, and mad with it.
Tonight, tonight we will use each other,
be drunk on each other.
We will laugh at the world and their rights and wrongs.
We will lay and laugh from now to until noonlight blinds us.
We won't think about what's real until they make us.
But that is tomorrow.
Tonight we are together.  
10
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Juice
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