7 Seconds with a Dump Truck
PTSD productions, like my own private movie studio spooling and gearing up, assembling a battalion, preparing for a calculated offensive.
PTSD productions, like my own private movie studio spooling and gearing up, assembling a battalion, preparing for a calculated offensive.
Well, this has been an interesting weekend. It’s an Easter weekend reunion—of all days. Four-twenty-2025. Easter Sunday. Yeah, imagine that. 420 and Easter weekend. Not necessary a “risen” I was expecting, buuut it’s me, writing these words like an unfiltered, 7-year-old Sasquatch boy. I love that kid so much! This post is about how a truck breakdown led me to a 25-Year reunion on Easter weekend. Anyway, I’m in Montgomery, Alabama. I’m here because, well, I wasn’t supposed to be—but I am. You see, I was home after long months of trucking and wanted to enjoy at least ten days
April 11, 2025
Imagination: The First Step to Disconnection Imagination. As I contemplate disengaging and disconnecting from the entire social setting (not just social media), I am becoming aware of attributes attached to it. And the fears. This note is about disembedding myself from an entire identity web spun so tight around me, it started breathing for me. My social sphere entails a lot. Just like everyone else, I, too, am here riding along onside the Great-Grand Mother Earth Ship soaring through the heavenly cosmos. Sounds like a song, I know, Lose My Minds Playground. This place is a vast place, connected today
April 5, 2025
The military has jargon—terminal leave, short-timer’s syndrome, pre-deployment grief. But none of those phrases capture the moment your closest friend walks away toward a gate, not daring to turn around. You feel his ribcage tense. Yours caves in. That’s not just loss. That’s psychological trauma from saying goodbye when no one gives you the tools to do it.
March 23, 2025
He didn’t steal. He didn’t lie. He just took a sip. And in that moment, I remembered what it means to be human.