I dare you…(poem)


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Dare to be different.
Dare to speak your truth.
Dare to stand in it.
Dare to be a guide on.
Dare to raise the banner.
Dare to raise your voices.
Dare to resist the night.
Dare to be yourself.
Dare to do the right thing.
Dare to speak truth to stupid.
Dare to set an example.
Dare to be safe in your skin, safe in yourself, safe in your world.
Dare to stare down a bully.
Dare to correct a wrong.
Dare to shout down lies.
Dare to sing the truth.
Dare to be observant.
Dare to be aware.
Dare to be righteous.
Dare to be loved.
Dare to be free.
Dare to be a dreamer.
Dare to be a lover.
Dare to be a friend.
Dare to be a sister.
Dare to be a brother.
Dare to be a mentor.
Dare to be a light.
Dare to be a phone call.
Dare to be a voter.
Dare to march in protest.
Dare to kneel and pray.
Dare to stand against tyranny.
Dare to make a mark.
Dare to live.
Dare so that others may live.
Dare to be counted.
Dare to be a leader.
Dare to be hope.
Dare to be a teacher.
Dare to be a preacher.
Dare to do all you can.

Draw from the Source Code of your Past





You can’t forget the past. You can’t let the past go. You don’t have a hold of it. It has a hold of you.
It happened to you. It affected your mind and your body- it disfigured you maybe physically but it altered you internally.
People always say to others who are dealing with mental health issues or PTSD – they tell them to get over it.
I am here to tell you your past – will never go away.
And those that say stuff like that will take themselves to church on Sunday and sit in a Pew and worship a being that walked the earth 2,000 years ago.
Then, they’ll drive down the city street and stop at a cafeteria in a country that was founded 280 years ago if it’s in America. Obeying laws wrapped up in a document the same age enforced by the government established at that time. 1066 if it’s in the U.K.
What I mean to say is while the past may be in the past – it’s power ripples into the future because we carry it there.
Ask someone who’s spouse cheated on them and they decide to stay together or if they split apart what that event will do or has done to them in the present.
Your past shapes your present in almost all ways and if you’re not careful about it – it will use you. Your past will be your present and will dictate to you your future.
What I am learning to do, or have started to learn to do over the past five years is instead of letting my past use me like it had for years and years, I started using my past.
I went inward and discovered that my story could be translated into words. I could put down on paper the events of my life and draw from it. From all of it, the good, and the bad, and the downright awful.
All my life I had been gathering up information that felt like tons and tons of weight I carried with me. All this weight was putting up barriers between me and the rest of the world because my life up to a certain moment felt bizarre. I felt like no one in the world could understand what I had gone through.
Yet my past looked into my future – and knew different.
So I started to write.
And like the gospels, I found I could return over and over again and discover something new. I could unload this weight and use this stuff to connect to people in ways that I couldn’t have possibly imagined while I was going through the pain of my past.
So much so that the past that I hated and tried to run away from, and felt powerless over, I became grateful for.
I’ve asserted responsibility for myself and the narrative.
That’s why I love being an author so much. When I receive a message or an email from a reader wanting to talk about the themes of my books or telling me that they connected to a character so strongly, that they had to say something, or they send a message saying “I know you know what you’re talking about because I too, know this.” That weight disappears, and I know I no longer carry it alone.
All of you aren’t writers. Yet, at two o’clock in the morning when your body is worn out and your husband is on your last nerve or your kids are driving you up a wall and you’re laying in bed wondering about the mistakes you’ve made, or if your brain wants you to relieve the life you’ve lived – get up.
Grab a pen, grab a sheet of paper, and tell your past, “Okay, you wanna do this? Let’s do this.”
Write it down.
You know the narrative already. It rolls around in your head, you can quote it from memory. Yet something happens when you put it on paper. You find yourself making value judgments on that event and you’ll surprise yourself with what it is you have to say about it. You’ll find yourself thinking thoughts and coming to conclusions because there is something about seeing the narrative in front of you. It drags the past into the physical world, into the present, the here and now. You may laugh, you may cry, you may get mad, furious even.
Then use it.
Turn it into something. Whether that something is writing, painting, photography, dance, singing, playing an instrument, or volunteering at a homeless shelter, animal shelter, helping a friend, blogging, vlogging, find a medium by which you can connect yourself to another living soul and let them see the cracks in your armor. The vulnerability. The humanity – because that’s all art is. The humanities.
We may be superficially connected by perfection in each other but it’s the imperfection that we find staying power. It’s in the vulnerability of another where we find ourselves wanting to be protective. It’s in the hard times we discover The ability to endure. It’s in our perceived weaknesses where we find our strength.
The secret of happiness may not be in the future – I think the secret of happiness rests decidedly in our past and what we choose to do with it, even though how the past was shaped have been beyond our control. We can control it, now. Draw on the Source Code.

Thoughts on the nature of Good vs Evil


Oscar Keys

The nature of evil is not to be something shrouded in black smoke, having horns, fangs, or some sort of paranormal element to it.
That would be easy.
And evil is never ever easily recognized.
It’s not something slayable on a weekly television series no matter how sweet Jared and Jensen are.
Evil never shows up and sticks out its hand saying, “Hey there. My name is evil and I am here to be be the worst baddie that ever did bad.”
No evil overlord has ever taken the mantle of evil – they all stand for the most truth and for the best justice – and the evil shows up in the execution of their plans.
That is how its possible for politicians to be monsters, cops to be murderers, preachers to be con artists, and populaces to be deceived.
Anything that separates you from God by separating you from your humanity and mutes your ability to recognize the hand of on God in each other – is Grade A certifiable evil.
When it comes to racism, sexism, homophobia, Islamophobia, hatred of Jews – any adherence to radicalism, fundamentalism, extreme political ideology – is evil.
Anything that seeks to remove you from the whole, from the main – is evil.
I do believe in angels and demons and spirits – but all I’ve ever seen in my life – all the evil I’ve come across in my time on earth – has been nothing short of human.
Evil is often not a thing but an absence of a thing. No hope.

Yet on the flip side of that – Good is rarely as loud as evil. Good is subversive. It shows up in the unwashed masses, it shows up in the actions of those who refuse to let man made divisions occupy their thoughts. It shows up in protests, it shows up in natural disasters, it shows up in making friends with the ‘other’ as they allow themselves to see a person and not a category. It’s sitting down and breaking bread, it’s working through problems, and it’s a prayer flung upward to heaven.In the midst of impossible, knowing it will probably fail, it still does the right thing. IT’s in the alcoholic struggling to maintain sobriety, it’s in the depressed person pushing on another day, it’s in the slipping of a homeless a couple of bucks knowing that they’re not going to buy food – because their addiction will kill them if no immediate help is made available and not judging them for it. Although the road to hell has been paved with good intentions the good is in the intent. Good exists in the radicalness of equality and the faith that even the most evil can somehow be redeemed. For good to flourish there must be hope – and hope is the thing that evil needs to destroy before it can assert itself.


Wisdom is knowing that human beings contain the propensity for both one hundred percent of the time.

Check your words three times (Poem)



(Photo by Imani Clovis)


check one
check two
check three
sit and ponder – is this me?
pick it apart, tear it asunder
flip it over and look at it under
a microscope, throw it up in the air
a telescope, wondering where
the words they say stop and where I begin
Is it normal to be living in sin
and what is sin? What is this thing
is it still constant even with my wedding ring
and is it still real if I don’t believe everything
that comes rolling out of the mouths of they
who’s sin is wrapped up in the modesty of Sears Clothing?

But there’s no softer side here
no pastel feelings no warmth do they bring
Sat up before us like kings and like queens
of banana pudding and too much hair spray
hair jacked to Jesus – as drag queens often say
who are they? Who are they?
who use rhetorical flourish – who use a book to beat people
when it was origionally created to nourish and bring life
now its a weapon used against a wife
who wants to leave because her man is abusive
the comfort of The Holy Spirit who was supposed to be constant
has now become elusive, obtuse and
What Can I say?

Tear down that statue, iis what I say, rip down that flag
But they reply , “Don’t say nothin’ boy, you’s nothin but a fag”
those black men, they don’t like you
it’s all gang-bangers and do-rags, its inbred in their race

But those same people who try to sew division
on Sunday they’re the loudest when they sing
Amazing Grace – hands stretched to God
tears rolling down their face
My God, don’t they know?
That John Newton was The Captain of a Slave Ship
Who – back when those men’s backs learned the anger
of the master’s bull whip
said “STOP!” Wait. What have I done?
How can I claim The Father and the Son
How do I try to plea the blood
when I’m the one who failed to read the book of Exodus
So, here, let me fix this – let me become the worlds first Abolitionist and pen a song now that I’m blind
and feeble in my bereavement let me work to do God’s work
and live to free men to see them
so mine eyes can see the glory of the coming of the Lord

Check one
Check two
Check three
sit and ponder – is this me?
Or is this them who be talkin’
talkin’ talkin’ yet they don’t do no walkin’
Their faith has become static – like that statue in N’awlins
lost in time they don’t realize
the differences in mankind aint about them
but this poem is, my flow is, the words often spoken
in hate, and fear, and malice -they’ve used that that I toss back at them
us ‘others’ we ain’t in it
talk about sin
their sin – they sit in it – and are proud of it
and repeat it, and believe it, and wonder why they’re all alone
sittin’ on a throne of bones, tombs, and headstones
When you say you’re saved – ain’t nobody believes it
The God you speak of – yeah he probably still loves
but it’s in spite of and not because of
those words that should make any man hesitate
and say, “Wait a minute, is this me?”
Let me stop, drop, let me see
and before I speak – are these words anointed
in the love I so needed , from God up above
or has my philosophy been informed solely by my geography
and grandaddy’s broke down theology
so’s I’m out creating disciples twice as fit for hell as I was?

Check one
Check two
Check three
Check your words three times before you speak.

Love me loving myself (Poem)



(Photo Yoanne Boyer)

Of course I want you to love me
For who i am! Not for what you think I should be
This isn’t Ralph Lauren you don’t get to choose
I’d rather sing rock and roll, than sing the blues
I want you to love me because quite frankly
I’m just like you

I’m as needy as you are needy
I’m as boring and frightfully dull
I can laugh till my side aches
And cry when my heart breaks
And I love moments when I’m the king of it all.

I’m as delightful as you are delightful
And I grow sad and so morose about the passing of time
I count gray hairs and crows feet lines
I groan when I see that’s a quarter til five
And I haven’t been to sleep, not a wink, not at all

But of course, I want you to love me
For who I am, I’ll let you know who that is when I know
Cause right now I’m as lost as you are lost
Stumbling forward, crashing, smashing onward ever forward
As Queen once sang, ‘…on with the show.’

I’m as wretched as you are wretched
And I grow more discontent by the day
As i grow older my patience grows thinner
My eyes grow dimmer, Everything grows slimmer
Yet someone forgot to tell my waist

I’m as sweet as you are precious
But my sweetness is reserved for those who deserve it
Not for those who I simply pass by
Nor for those who’ve made a habit of making me cry
I’m getting too old for other people’s bullshit

So, yes, Yes! Please, by all means love me!
But understand if I won’t wear a mask for you
I won’t trade myself, place who I am on a shelf
If that means you have to leave
Well, you have to do what’s best for you

For I am as worthy as you are worthy
And there is history behind my voice
But my voice is my own, my opinions full grown
Loving one’s self is a toast to your health
And loving myself is my choice

The worst kind of bigot

(Photo by Ian Keefe)
The worst kind of bigot is a bigot who hates other bigots.

They’re the sly bigots who won’t talk about the differences in humanity. Why black people are special. Why Hispanic people are unique. Why gay people are such a focus right now in popular media.

They give Sunday school answers to people when these subjects are broached saying, “Love is love. I won’t talk about what makes us different.”

OR there’s another favorite out there among these people, “I don’t see color.”

The hell they dont.

They just refuse to acknowledge the color, the race, or the sexuality so they don’t have to deal with the weight society places on people in these categories.

Not acknowledging these things, denies people their dignity. Their past. Their present. And robs us all of our future.

That’s bigotry.

A great deal if people are anticipating the live action Disney remake of Beauty and the Beast. Disney has come out and said that there will be a gay character who dances with another man.

And just like clockwork million mom’s and evangelicals everywhere were first in line to protest and say they were boycotting while lecturing Disney about cramming the ‘gay agenda’ down their throats.

Yeah, Disney. Protestant Evangelicals should know! They’ve only been doing  agenda cramming for 500 years!

I digress.

But we were expecting them. They’re bigots. Grade A. And they’re kind of stupid. I mean, really. If we were to describe Christianity using high-school as an analogy, they’re the cheerleaders. The yell, jump around, everyone loves them for their passion but no one talks to them, because they’re dumb as a brick.

But then there are those who are a little more low key.

Who don’t feel comfortable explaining to their kid that sometimes- boys like boys or girls like girls and leave it at that.

You’re not drawing diagrams for goodness sake. Buck up mom and dad, they’re are far more difficult questions coming down the road. 

And the counter argument to that is, “I don’t think I should be told how to raise my child.”

And I agree with you. Personally,  I don’t give a damn how you raise your kid.

But for those of you out there who have gay people in your family, whom you claim to love, your NOT acknowledging your family members life hurts worse than anything some evangelical blowhard can say. 

That movie will come and go.

But those cuts, are permanent.  

Love yourself


(Photo by Saeed Mhmdi)

Love yourself – I am not talking about narcissism because that does not love. That’s obsession. That’s ego.

But true love. Love yourself. Be compassionate to yourself. Be merciful to yourself.
Be yourself
Don’t ever be someone you’re not
There isn’t anything in the world worth trading yourself in for.

Not a friend, lover, a group.
Not a promise of fortune nor a threat of misfortune.

We do this so much.

We try to be so many different people for so many different people that who we are – gets lost in the shuffle.

Or we screw up and get who we’re supposed to be for this group and are that way with the wrong one.

Do you, boo.

All day. Everyday.

If you give people your space, they’ll move in and set up house where you’re supposed to be.

You are a person. Your thoughts. Your feelings. Your beliefs – matter.

You – matter.

Draw that line. Set up those boundaries. Be true to yourself.

Some people may not like that.

I can guarantee you a lot of people don’t.

But that’s because you’ve stopped letting them live rent-free in your head.

I’ve had people in my life who knew they were wrong for doing me the way they did.
Knew it.

But because I let them, they kept it up.

You know what happened when I cut them off?

They got mad.

It was like, “How dare you stop me from hurting you?”

They ain’t nothin but some gossip folk, now.

I don’t even remember their last names.

You’re worth too much to be something you’re not.

Just a thought.

Telling it like it is vs Being Plain Spoken


There’s a difference between someone who speaks plainly and someone who ‘tells it like it is.’
The first is born of time as well as deciding what’s important and the second is born of a lack of home training.
There are so many people out there ready to ‘tell it like it is,’ hell, we’ve just elected a president whose supporters say this is his greatest feature.
But if you really want to confront something – try confronting yourself.
Because you see, when you confront yourself and all that’s wrong with you – when you take a deep hard look at what’s going on between your ears and in your heart – when you decide to face down your demons, you’ll find they’re legion.
You’ll discover that for every negative thing you can say about someone else, there are ten things someone could say about you.
That – starts a journey of self-discovery. You figure out what’s important and what isn’t. You’ll find out who your friends are and who are simply acquaintances. You start to establish boundaries. You figure out what you’ll accept in your life and what you won’t.
Essentially, that ‘I tell it like it is’ person, grows up, stops being superficial and decides that they’re too old for people’s bullshit.
Along the way – they’ll find out that a lot of people don’t like that. But then right around the corner – they’ll realize that a lot of people just don’t matter.
I am not saying that these people are less – but if the people you talk to on social media will not either attend your wedding or – better yet – funeral, why sweat them?
Most people in life are lucky if they find a spouse and a friend or two – to walk through this life with. That, no matter what, will always be there. Worry about your relationship with them. Tell them, often, how much you love them. What they mean to you. Be willing to get raw with them and let them see what and who you really are and be willing to see what and who they are with that same measure of acceptance.
Those are the ties that bind. Those are the connections that mean the most – not the guy who speaks to you as a woman the way he does because he doesn’t love his mother, not the uber-feminist who can’t defend her point of view and tries to invalidate your point of view because you happen to have a penis, not the political troll, nor the religious kook, nor some person who dismisses you because there’s fire in your speech – who can’t conceptualize your life or articulate your little finger.
Don’t let it fill up your space, don’t let them live rent free in your head.
Any relationship worth having comes at some measure of risk involved, sure. But choose wisely and you’ll avoid the social media’s equivalent of the clap.
9.9/10’s of the ‘tell it like it is crowd’ only use you to describe 100 percent who they are.
It may cost you popularity – it may cost you ‘friends’, ‘likes’, and ‘follows’, but I guarantee you – at the end of the day you’re better off. Walking the tightrope of ‘oh, God, what do I say to this? How do I respond to that?” is no way to live. If you wouldn’t put up with that kind of life from a spouse, why live that way with people you may never meet in life?
Polonius in Hamlet said this, “This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.”
Basically, know you so when someone steps to you with some crazy bullshit – you can show them the lobby where they can take a seat and wait to get called on.

Learning to be grateful ( Under construction)

I have so much to be thankful for. It’s so hard when you hear some shady shit not to react. So today, I’m just gonna sit in this space where I know what’s really going on. Sorry but some of this may be NSFW.

I can write my ass off. I know that sounds self-aggrandizing – but I am good at what I do. Whether or not that shit sells is irrelevant. My reviews speak for themselves .
I am healthy- I quit smoking, I work out every day. I do yoga and try and clear my head and find my center. And I find it. And I lose it. And I find it again.
I’ve been working on myself – introspection has brought forth a lot of breakthroughs that has lead to some hurt but also a lot of healing as well.
I have a few close friends- a tight group of people I associate with. Mass groups of people and being in large groups don’t make me feel popular. It makes me feel like I am strapped to an atomic bomb that’s waiting to go off. Too much anxiety.
I am not perfect – I fuck up sometimes. I say some stupid stuff sometimes that I don’t mean in the heat of the moment. But I embrace my mistakes and own them. So trying to hang shit over my head is sort of worthless. I’ve implemented parts of a 12 step Alcoholics Anonymous program for sanity’s sake. I come from a world of secrets and secrets when they get too deep eat away at you like cancer.
I have an amazing husband. A great marriage. We work hard on making each other happy. And like Beyonce says, “When he fucks me good I take his ass to Red Lobster.” I get that statement 100 percent. I’ve known a lot of gay relationships that don’t make it because of outside influences and pressure and I can’t guarantee 100 percent that we will – but if there is one attribute I have is bullheadedness. I take my vows extremely serious.
There are times I’ve been a misogynist, a bigot, a racist, or how about worse- a homophobe. But there are times everyone has. I’m not afraid to own that. But the difference is I have a constant dialogue going on in my head trying to fix these things that I find errant. Just because I have this conversation going on here – on occasion – don’t mean that chapter has been closed and that book written. Can you say the same? It’s called change. You should probably look that up.
I am both arrogant and humble. Sinner and Saint. An educated fool. There is a paradox of life that I’ve embraced and I’m cool with that and recognize I’ve no more ‘arrived’ than anyone else and understand that everything I am can be taken in an instant. That’s just life. And I’ve had the rug ripped out from underneath me on several occasions. That shit will keep you humble.
And just like every other time in my life – I’ve learned to be thankful for it. That’s the hard part. Finding moments like that – even when everything is fifty shades of black – something to be grateful for. And what I am MOST grateful for is those who’ve stuck it out with me over the course of these couple of years of writing. That means the world to me.
I am grateful to my friends – my loyal readers (all seven of you), my life.
But if I’ve offended anyone in the past. Let me take a second and apologize for you that I am a work in progress and I am always trying to better myself.
But as far as I am concerned, that’s over with. It’s time to move on. I am all about love these days. That’s the only way to fix anything. But when the sun sets, even if I were to lose everything, I got me. I got this. Because I am me. And what is that? A powerful, intelligent, passionate gay man who’s navigated this world with as much grace and dignity as I could. I am myself. In the end, that’s good enough for me.


Feelin’ this pretty hard today.

Message in a Bottle (Part 6)

“Do you know if you were to die today, that you would go to heaven?”

Yikes. That’s the million dollar question that could have many different answers. But it was a question posed to me by my father in our home in Detroit when I was seven years old. I remember it clearly.

I was sitting on a picnic table my father had built for a kitchen table inside of the house. I remember sitting next to him as he asked me that question. I remember it was summertime. I remember that his friend Mr. Z came over afterward.

But I remember my father sharing with me the gospel and him reading to me the Bible where it says that every man is a sinner and without Jesus would go to Hell. And then he described Hell to me – a place of eternal torment, where the body and the worm is never consumed, and it lasts for all eternity.

Your damn right I ‘got saved’. And afterward, he explained to me that I was 100 percent saved and could never lose it. Ever.

Everyone loves certainty. Right? Knowing what’s going to happen next? Knowing 100 percent that no matter what, you’re gonna be alright?

It’s sort of a rare thing in this world.

Or is it?

The foundation of Fundamentalism in Christianity is that 100 percent pure certainty. And it’s not just in regard to going to heaven. That amount of certainty exists in other facets of it as well. The 100 percent belief that The Bible is God’s word. The 100 percent belief that the King James Version is the only correct translation. The 100 percent beleif that the pastor is God’s chosen man and anything he says, does, etc. is all anointed by God. His political views are your political views, his words are your words, his social views become your social views. His opinions on books, movies, prime time television, going to the movie theater, the mall, the beach, how to raise your family, how to punish your children, how to punish your wife, how a wife should look for her husband, and on and on that goes…

And all of it is certain.

Yesterday, 2 events took place inside of the United States and as far as we know, Isis – or the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (and curiously the name is identical to an Egyptian goddess) has claimed responsibility.  That person(s) stabbed a group of people at all mall. Hurt a lot of them. Also last night, someone detonated a bomb in the neighborhood of Chelsea in New York City. It is unknown at this time who was responsible. Like the certainty I was offered on the picnic table, certainty that I took because Hell sounded like it sucked, these people also acted on certainty.

For 15 years, America has been combating certainty. Absolutism. Another term for that is FUNDAMENTALISM. And for fifteen years there has been a hyper-awareness of the religion Islam. Now, prior to 9/11 most people didn’t know where Afghanistan was on a map, didn’t know who the Mujahadeen were, had no clue what a Taliban was, Osama Bin Laden may have been a bit more familiar given then 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center by Mohammed Yousef, but not much more. Today, however, especially in New York – people know these terms.

And politicians do what politicians do – especially if they suck at being politicians and want to distract from their own platform – and do their best to draw attention to a group of people as a distraction. Is ISIS a threat? Yes. Duh. Were the Taliban a threat? Sure. How about Al-Queada? Hamas? Hezbollah? The PLO? Sure. Yes. These people often kind of suck.

What do they all have in common?

The dummies would say Islam. Or Michelle Bachmann, Steve King, and Donald Trump – but I repeat myself…

Someone who knows better, who grew up in fundamentalism, would know better. The things they have in common is fundamentalism. Absolutism. And most of all, Certainty. They’re very very sure of themselves. They know 100 percent their convictions are correct.

Sound familiar?


What if I were to tell you that Fundamental Baptist, Catholic, Pentecostal is to Christianity what The Taliban is to Islam?

Oh, you’re kind of reaching, some would say.

Am I?

See, Certainty can be a real mother for people who don’t possess it.

Certainty causes people to fly planes into buildings, shoot abortion doctors, call women who’re seeking an abortion, whores. Certainty allows children to be beaten and tortured, women to be raped and told to apologize to their rapist in America, stoned to death in the Middle East. Certainty allows cognitive dissonances. It hides sociopathy. And is starting to be considered not only by The Pope, but by health professionals, as a mental illness.

In interim before society takes that leap. Listen to who the biggest screamers are over Islamic Fundamentalists setting up Sharia Law, etc. People like Franklin Graham who is so not his daddy. Jerry Falwell Jr who is his daddy. The far alt right, the fundamentalists – those who have insisted that man live under THIER thumb. See Isis isn’t so much an invading force to them as it is a threat to their power. Franklin Graham – notoriously anti-lgbt – even tried to plead with the LGBT community to resist them.

“They throw gay people off buildings over there!”

Yeah, Frankie? How uncivilized of them. Here, we just guilt them into suicide because you make them so CERTAIN that they are better off dead than being gay.

I’ve changed my mind on my whole ‘saved’ state of being. Mostly, because I’ve had to give up on certainty. Certainly tells me that the hell I went through as a kid was justified. My head, my heart, my soul, and my conscience, say otherwise. I don’t even believe in Hell anymore. And I’m kinda suspect on the idea of Heaven. I think these aren’t destinations and agree with Pope Paul, I think it’s a state being. I’m not certain, though. But I am getting to be okay with that.

America has it’s own problems with fundamentalists. Just because ours don’t ‘have funny names’ doesn’t make it untrue. 411722_orig

I’ll write more when I can