My son Connor and I came home one Saturday afternoon from a yard sale, where we bought a painting of a young boy for five dollars. Connor was an artist and was born mute. He would spend hours in his studio drawing pictures of imagined creatures...
I wasn’t really sure why I was here tonight on this train, but I knew it would be special. There were twelve of us kids in total on that train. The place was alive with the excited buzzing of children talking excitedly over one another. I kept ...
by Doug Robbins
The world is vapor, man.
Rarely have I ever had a meaningful relationship,
and the ones that meaqnt something, eventually go away.
We are all just the queen’s fools, Mother Na...