Short Stories and Other Writings

       It has been said that the pen is mightier than the sword. I firmly believe this to be one of life's great truths. But the caveat is that words are only mightier when brilliant writers become inspired enough to make them so, or, and this is the beauty that warms my heart, when any given person, having fallen victim to this same inspiration, commits intense attention into carefully expressing, in words, whatever it is they fiercely need to say. I feel I fall into this latter group.

       I used to write a lot. By the age of 22, I'd written two loosely auto-biographical books, a 527-page anthology of my lyrics and poetry. I've written countless articles for newsgroups and short stories about spirtuality and the like. I would say that describing Universal Truths and Human Spirituality is a good way to compartmentalize my writing style. But I don't write much anymore.

       I used to write a lot about things I strongly believed in. I used to write predominently about spirituality in general, trying make some sense of our collective shared humanity, to make sense of man's place in the cosmos. You know, the basic dead horse that has been beaten on and beaten on since the beginning of time. Well, I take it out and give it one more good beating. Why? Because it needs to be done and I'm just the guy to do it. I did a pretty good job of it and I even could say I had a small international audience who looked forward to reading my work, because I have been translated into a number of other languages such as Russian, Spanish, Italian and Portuguese by people I have never even met.

       I was actually surprised at first, that all those people wanted to read what I had to say, but I wasn't surprised for long because I am very passionate when I write. I just draw in all this energy from all over the place, I feel it going through me and I use the momentum to consciously enter many different states as I go through my process. I go places when I write. I can articulate where I am going, what I'm experiencing and imbue it with my own sensibilities.

        Writing has a way of taking the reader along on a journey, whether it's a jouney into the imagination or factual accounts, the writer opens the door through which readers will travel, into and through various states of mind, rivers of emotion, flights of spiritual joy or staight into the flesh-tearing teeth of a heart-crushing sadness. The reader is taken somewhere else, and then returned safely back down into their world. I have something very profound to say about our sense of collective humanity and I'd like to share it with you. Whether or not I will actually ever do that is anyone's guess. When I am writing I feel like I am doing what I was born to do.

        But in recent years, I can't find the words anymore. The audience I once had, I just blew it all off. Human Spirituality is pure subjectivity, and the Collective Subjective gets abused all-too-often and is subject to being used as a weapon for human beings to take advantage of others. So, for me, it has to be about our shared sense of humanity now. I write about facets of life that are universal, shared by everyone, anywhere on this little blue ball spinning through space. I write about the things that make us small, insignificant passengers on wheels spinning through time, passengers spinning through some unknowable cosmic arrangement. I write about how we are connected to everything because we are not separate, but one fully-integrated living system where everything is a part of us and where, ultimately, when it's all said and done, we belong here within everything.

        My writing has to be about how we connect our drop of living water to The Universal Sea of Life, how we bring our lives into alignment with the currents and energies flowing through the natural world and how we can live in good health and balance with The Grand Design. I believe the real reason I don't write much is because I lost my faith in mankind, that nobody cares about what I have to say and, above all, I've become deeply jaded and cynical. I feel like somewhere along the way my spirit was damaged and hurt by the process of people taking advantage of each other and taking advantage of me. So my pen has gone silent for about 10 years now.

       But I am starting to realize, as I complete this long healing process, this long recovery, that the tables in the sky have been turning, maybe turned full-circle and I might have something to say again, something meaningful to anyone, something inspiring and true to the heart of any living person. I just want to share and articulate how I think and feel about life. That was enough before to make people read me, to feel and be inspired by what I had to say and I believe, coming from the place where I am now, in life, it will be enough again to touch your heart and coax you into the state we call our shared collective humanity.

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A Selection Of My Short Stories

Available in pdf format

Where The Winds Had Taken Her

You Know I Could Never Love Anyone

The Aloha Spirit

I Went Down To The Crossroads

Strict Physical Law

The Last Pepsi