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This happy life is killing me

My crazy pills are killing me. About fifteen years ago, I tried to say goodbye to the cycles of incredible, unstoppable energy punctuated with bone-crushing, suicidal depression. I was a married man with a serious job. I had a kid. I had to fit in. During one of these depressions,…

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Petting the bees

Some people are lucky enough to know what they wanted to do since they were kids. I am one of them. I always wanted to be a writer. Through much adversity, most self-imposed, I published my first pieces at age 32. Since then, I have been able to make a…

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How masturbation and fornication saved me from Perdition

When I fell, I fell hard and I fell fast. When I was a kid, eternal damnation haunted my young life. Only through sins of the flesh would I come to believe there was no such thing as sin. In other words, sin served as the starting point for my…

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Letter to a fellow traveler

Thanks for the note, Charlie. Sorry for the long, pedantic reply. I am very interested in your project and found that your questions warranted more than curt answers. You asked me about relating personal experience that is readable and relevant to a stranger, and about filters. Making a thing readable…

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Teaching as performance art (best done naked)

Sometimes I just don’t have it. The lecture I’m supposed to make is clear in my head, but the words come out in jumbles. Frankly, it’s embarrassing. I have a class to impress. If I don’t impress them, engage them, they lose interest. They lose interest and I’m a failure…

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