A collection of short stories and poems written by yours truly. Diams; October 1, 2013. May the Lord watch between me and thee while. We are apart one from another. If only he could go somewhere where I could go. Not deeper into alone, for if the dead float then. I could still reach him. But in order to enter the. River I must learn to swim he was always a. Natural at that while I was consumed with fear. Maybe God would let me unravel the stitches.

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My take on myself, the world at large and everything in between. Before long, I find myself regressing to the state of quiet, surly discontent in which I have, in my perspective, ambled along for most of my experience in this setting. The compromise I have managed to achieve, my most familiar method of coping with the daily contradictions of life on the continent.