- A new writing series I’m starting called “Magic Hour”. These are creative writings in the wee hours of the night. They can be anything from a poem, a single word, a channeling, journaling, a short story etc. Here’s last night’s:
But deep inside of him lies a hollow flame in the pit of his stomach
He rummages through the bland days with a acknowledgement of his greatness as a trophy for his imagination
He cannot fathom how his days could marinate in the infinite fire that cools down the water of knowledge so one could digest it in bites and observe the reason for his existence
The development of habitual resistance
He’s blocked the sacred passage
The way. The Word.
Cut through the clogged arteries
Give the art room to breath
Cease the moment that lingers into other moments slowing down the only thing that we can perceive as time
Don’t waste a dime.