http://slow.writerscafe.org/abejoyal The original writings of author abejoyal en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776041390 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Topher took his drag of his cigarrette, a checker. He didn't like them nearly as much as the pleasant sweet flavour of djarum blacks, but he couldn't afford cloves and hadn't been able to for some time now. He worked two minimum wage jobs, barely enough to cover food, rent at the half way home where.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/435508/ With a burning passionThat voice spoke into himHow change must comeNot with violent exicutionNor the opportunity for escalationThe day cameFor the sparks of changeFor the catalyst to be the peopleAnd for his will to be expressedYet there was resistanceAnd the flags of ignorance w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/425766/ "Fairy tales percieve and describe a world which grows up inopposition to an uncertain, confusing, unclear and menacing reality...fairy tales crystallize forms, they give us firm lines and rigid, unchanging figures."-LuthiOnce upon the time from a beautiful burgoise rose a great and gl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/420931/              It is my intention here to describe the relationship of both the personal and societal egos with the betterment of society versus the continument of what is now a series of failed systems. These are my opinions and analyses on .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/412110/ The burning sensationsOf indavidualistic timesWe hope to come aboutSuch a curious scandalFor too many yearsHave the pipes and needlesBeen the shrieks of massesHave are minds festeredAt the hands of one anotherDiseased hares become udAnd from our morbid enterprisesSpring a cycle.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/410627/             The monk walked up to his student, ready to tell him of more, which the student sought to learn. He could not be called a teacher, for that would imply a sense of superiority over the student. The monk instead preferred to be called by his first name, a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/404293/ This is the base of your spineWhere needles growAnd Moths flyWhere all eyes devour stoneWhere nerves are fluidousAnd opinions are enigmaticThis is the ego's stomping groundWhere purple prose is the only language spokenAnd wilted daisies may popThe Night Will Walk.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/395489/  And We Were Wall WatchersWe were those who grew up next to playground fencesWho befriended trafficWho had inordinate fearsWe were those who walked in circlesStared off into spaceWatched walls as we thoughtWe were those who could love ourselvesThough we’re not the best a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/392920/              Tristan exited the convenience store one morning, drink in hand, looking down the paved hill that had once been the booming main street of this now nearly abandoned part of town. All of Wyatsons business and liveliness had no.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/377910/  Feeding off fish that lived in the mudLong before the stench of European bloodLiving in the dark so that I could stay coolForever have I lived in those murky poolsUntil I decided under the moons pretty gleanTo be reborn in what’s now New Orleans I may be sentient tho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/371255/  I can no longer stand the American regimeI’d rather see fulfilled my socialist dreamsI want to see the death of the money-grubbing schemesI want to see the an end to those violent fiendsI want to know that my currency is cleanI want better ends by peaceful means I ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/370397/             Walking through the woods, the young child seemed to be searching aimlessly for something, with a small mutt of a terrier following closely behind. It was a beautiful day, and as much as the child was glad to be outside with his dog,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/363062/ I wish here to somewhat explore the dual effects of self medication on a bipolar personality. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/362978/  First, he was a tiger and she was a tiger. And they were in love, hunting together always, fending for themselves, their cubs and most of all each other. They were very happy and lived to long old ages, until they died protecting their cubs from hunters. Together, they were the victorious dead.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/358816/              One cold December morning, a rusty old Toyota pickup truck with a big chocolate lab sitting happily in the bed clunked its way onto the dirt parking lot of a half-way house, designed for those who have just left jail or rehab, but most often bot.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/abejoyal/357976/