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To anyone who can truly hear my fight for my, SOUL

This Is the Truth of My Life I’m 43 years old. And I’m not starting over. I’m surviving in the wreckage of a life that’s been torn apart again and again—not by laziness, not by failure to try, but by people, by systems, by trauma, by timing, by things outside my control. I’m not on some hopeful self-discovery path. I’m clinging to the edge of a cliff. And every time I think I’ve found ground, the ground gives out. Not because I let go, but because someone or something took it away. I don’t have a job. I don’t have money. I don’t have a safe, secure place to live. I’m living with my parents, and that’s not a haven—it’s a countdown. We’re not family in the meaningful sense. We tolerate each other, but we do not love each other. Not in action, not in presence. Just in name. I have no nest egg. No safety net. No “just in case.” If a bill shows up tomorrow, if the car breaks down, if I get sick—I can’t handle it. And I will get sick, because my body’s already breaking down. Ther...
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The Monochrome Life

I. The Genesis of Obliteration “There are deaths that bury flesh, and deaths that erase the reason for breath. The latter leaves no grave—only haunted air .”  A Purpose Annihilated This isn't grief. It's the aftermath of a nuclear strike detonated at the core of my existence. My divorce wasn't just the end of a relationship; it was the annihilation of a sacred calling. Marriage and family weren't concepts – they were the cosmic purpose that lit the spark of life, the reason for every battle fought. That central pillar wasn't removed; it was vaporized. The explosion left no fragments to reconstruct, only the gaping wound where purpose once beat. What remains isn't space to rebuild; it's a voided crater where meaning used to be. The fuel for existence is gone. Vanished. Irrevocably. The structure of "why" collapsed into dust, leaving only the hollowed-out carcass of a life. because of my faith—my unshakable covenant with the divine—I am n...
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Glory of the Cosmos

Glory of the Cosmos An Epic to the Immortal Gods Before the first horizon opened its burning eye, Before dawn learned how to rise from the dark, Before wind found its wandering voice— The Immortals stood. Not one throne alone in the silence— But many. Storm-crowned. Sea-veiled. Sun-robed. Moon-browed. Flame-bearing. Harvest-holding. Sword-bright and mercy-deep. From their splendor the stars took fire. From their laughter the rivers ran. From their will the mountains rose And bent in shining reverence. Glory to the Immortals— Radiant Powers of earth and sky! Thrones of lightning and woven fate, Hands that shape both seed and storm. Golden the Mothers who kindle hearth and heart. Fierce the Guardians who stand at the gates of shadow. Wise the Keepers of hidden paths and silver thought. Joyful the Givers of wine, of harvest, of love’s uprising. Without their light we would fade like ash in wind. Without their breath we would drift without song. But uph...
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