Blackbirds, Mockingbird, Under the Empyrean Sky, Blue Blazes, Double Dead, Bait Dog,. Writing about games and pop culture. Holy Shit, Free Stories.

Back to home sweet home. Where there is peace and joy. That wipes your pain and sorrow away. What do they say charity starts at home. East or West home is the best. There is no place in earth that is the best. I want to do something awesome. Whenever I want to do something great. I wish I had my own space.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.

This page is all about my favourite things, means full of veriety. If you follow me then i will definately follow you back. Thanks! December 21, 2016. The message inside may also include a Chinese.

An eclectic mixture of personal essays, stuff about writing, stuff about books and far out philosophy from an old baggage in a book-tower. Godmother and I agreed, there was something spooky, even gruesome about it. The fact that associations like this are made my mind is shocking, even to me.

Inside the Mind of Davy D. Middot; January 12, 2017. Are You a Poet? .

Why do you have to play with my mind? December 16, 2016.

Atardecer en el Este uruguayo. Para los lectores del hemisferio norte, escuchar hablar del verano es casi sinónimo de julio y agosto. Para quienes se desplazan por las calles de Montevideo en enero, la impresión es otra. Sea lo que fuere, esta impresionante imagen es un verdadero recreo para las miradas. Gracias por el magnífico 2016 que me regalaron con sus lecturas y comentarios! Retomamos el contacto en la segunda mitad de enero.

In Crystalline Blades of Grass. A Bison in the Woods. In crystalline blades of grass. I am alert and aware,. A Bison in the Woods. I just want to maul you, drag you back to my den and kiss you forever. A Bison in the Woods.

My baby, and my books. This is the town with the house with the woman with the fire inside. She arranges her mornings with needles and flowers, becoming quieter. Everyday wishing there is more to life than this great lone pine. They do not talk to her anymore, nor do they visit her with apple pies. The future is a gray seagull, they say, the sun has gone to another.