Author Archive

Ad gladium

In the world of the gladiator, a man’s fame and glory construct their own truth.

I’m still wrapping my mind around that one. I get it, it’s actually quite easily divested of meaning. It’s the logic behind the statement that I’m examining. The idea that rumor and gossip become the truth of a man, simply because his name is on everyone’s lips. That a man’s real self becomes lost in the translation.

It makes the statement become one of immense sadness.

Ah, well. Such are the thoughts that consume my Sunday while I should be editing.

Ever upward

Never lower your gaze from the heavens, aim for those stars that populate the sky; cast your own brilliance back at them.

Shine, with a brightness built of purpose and find the greatness that rests inside each and every one of us.


Keep your head up, unbroken and unbowed.


I cannot quite describe how I am feeling at this exact moment.

I do know this, someone needs to change my iTunes password.

Seriously. Impulse buys are filling my purchased playlist.

I’m on my favorite top-step perch, it seems to be where I do most of my ruminating these days.

And of course as I am now never without my iPhone and all of the apps and music it holds; my thought processes are tied to the wonders contained within its circuitry.

I think I need to unplug, un-think, unaware myself to the world.

Yes, I know I used unaware improperly there. I’m a writer. But I enjoy verbing words.

I feel almost lost. Not in the geographical sense, but somewhere inside I seem to have lost something. Something indistinct and half-tangible. Yet somehow something so very real.

I honestly don’t know what I’m trying to say.

The non, the fiction.

Life isn’t perfect. We aren’t perfect, but the perfect thing about life is that you get to choose who is perfect for you.

We get to choose who we let into our our weird, private little lives. We can choose who gets to see the barest possible soul inside the layers of armor and pretense that we are forced to wear daily by our imperfect world.

Truth superseded by the image, what we want others to believe to be true superimposed over the reality of ourselves.

So elusive, the real.


Sometimes, for brief moments, everything makes sense. Then, as soon as the feeling registers, it is gone and I am hollow.

I find that enlightenment comes in fits and starts; pieces like Lego blocks fitting together then falling down before the full picture can be fully glimpsed.

I wonder at the universe and our place within its machinery. Always the question is purpose.

It is ever the why that draws me. Stolen glances, surreptitious wishes.


I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.


I like the word ferocious, ferocity, fierce.

It’s a great descriptor when used properly.

I am fiercely living my ferocious life with an unbridled ferocity. Ergo, fierce.


My musical tastes (which have always been rather odd and eclectic) have been going in strange directions lately.

I rather like it. Horizons, consider yourselves broadened.

I’m not sleeping well again. Odd dreams populate my subconscious continuously.

I sit, on my steps, the three-a.m. sky cold and bright with stars. They are blurred halos shimmering over the rims of the corrective lenses I rarely wear.

The night sky is a place dreams; aspirations that shine alongside the constellations of our forebears.

I stare, and shiver. My thoughts running tangentially, leading me ever-onward toward . . . nothing.

The steam of my breath heads skyward and my concentration, filmy and indistinct goes with it.

I feel as if I must be waiting for something. I cannot fathom what it might be.


Eurisko means I discover in Greek. It feels fitting to start a post with that idea.

I wish life could be more focused on the journey, the discovery, instead of the things that seem to be most important to modern civilization.

Gandhi said be the change you want to see.

I have found that it is difficult to be the change when it seems like your voice barely registers. My signal is lost in the ‘verse.

I would like to note here that as soon as I typed Gandhi’s name my shuffle went to Chaiyya Chaiyya from the Dil Se soundtrack.

Auspicious, no?

I’m currently sitting on my steps, giant cup of espresso in hand, staring into a gloriously blue winter sky. I dislike winter principally because it’s normally so gray. All of the color leached from the landscape, cold and barren.

It’s a season that I’ve never become accustomed to. I became self-aware in Central America, the most formative moments of my boyhood spent in the oceans and jungles of Panama. As such, I dislike intensely the cold of much of North America.

There are many things that we are forced to accept in this life. Chance and circumstance serve to circumscribe our existence.

I’ve never become accustomed to limitations either. I will not, can not, rest on past laurels; may I never be forced to lower my grasp from the stars. Nothing worthwhile comes easily or without price. That’s the nature of life, of our lives, we all must pay for the things we want, in some way or other.

Price. When does it become too much?

When does the cost of discovery become too much to be borne?

Mortals, we are.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever run out of things to say.

I sincerely hope not, because that would mean that I’ve become deficient in some manner or other.

I’m feeling reflective tonight, my great-uncle died in the morning of what is now yesterday. I think that a death makes everyone stop and take stock of what’s truly important.

I’m not certain that it’s sunk in yet. I feel, well that’s just it; I don’t know what to feel.

Should I say that I feel decidedly mortal? That I’m sad? That I cannot for the life within me think of something to say to my grandmother?

I think that sometimes the nature of the lives we lead is infinitely unfair.

I think I’ll just leave it at that.