Fading Inside Fate

Fading Inside Fate 

Inside a brand of hollow
Words confined and bound
Pain too much to swallow
I’m all forgotten now

Each breath’s breaking point
The tie inside my throat
A grasp without release
From the tears as they choke

A collage of emptiness
Spreads inside of me
In every empty step
Reminder as I breathe

image from: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/402579654163153629/

Crouching in the corner
Back against the wall
Every passing moment
Is breaking to a crawl

Eyes are feeling heavy
Can’t seem to look away
Lost inside reflection
Haunting to this day

I try to stand
I feel the break
As I cast a wish
Fading inside fate

I wish away
I wish yet no one hears me

Podcasts- A Hunt for Great Content

I’ve decided this site is going to to mainly about Podcasts. I will still contribute poetry and short stories, but anything outside and beyond that, nah.

It simply takes too much time to go in several directions.

There are specific Podcasts that really stand out to me and I think I’m going to point out episodes I like most, reviews, and even narrators that I think make a big difference.


I’ve dabbled into narration myself, it’s tough. It’s harder then any of the voice actors/actresses are given credit for. The psychotic feeling of talking to yourself is only the beginning of this challenge. Tie in dialogue and two different genders in a scene and you can get the idea, it can get a bit challenging to “capture” the variety of voices that may be necessary.

Certain people stand out for certain roles because their voice portrays certain feelings in a brilliant way. Solid narration makes a huge difference. It can be the difference between a great story or a slumber fest.

Anyways, back to the point here. Podcasts captures my interest back when I first listened to Serial about the Anon case, from there I explored. As a natural lover of horror I ventured directly into that area of Podcasts to see what my options were.

I’ve been all over the place when it came to my options. I will state hands down that NoSleep Podcast, found here, is my personal favorite. Whether you are looking for great stories, or great mentors to improve your own narration, you find it all here.

My first article more than likely will be covering a few stories by them that I consider my favorite. I will provide links to anything that I list. I have not seen anyone that covers horror Podcasts in a manner that really drives people to check them out more, which is why I want to be that and do that.

Podcasts that you can expect me to bring up as time moves forward are:

The NoSleep Podcast

Myths and Legends (Not horror but great quality)

Jim Harold- Campfire and Paranormal Podcast

Anything Ghost Show

The Black Tapes

These are just to name a few. If anyone has suggestions that they would like me to check out then I am all ears. I’m always in favor of running into new quality content.

I look forward to putting this together and knowing the direction I now want to go. With any luck I will be able to get some of the Podcasts to give personal input toward some of the articles. It may be facts, it may be direct talk with a narrator or author, any kind of addition would be great.

I have been in touch with a few of the people behind these Podcasts and they are great, hard-working, creative people.

Anyways, on a final note, this isn’t being done for any form of money. This is more about passion, exposure, and networking in no particular order. I’m doing this because I support the efforts put into these forms of entertainment and if I can get more people to check it out and spread the word of something truly enjoyable, then I’m going to do exactly that.

I will try my best to post twice a week. I’ve been bad at keeping a schedule, but I will do my best.

Writer’s Carnival-Wheels on Writing

This was written a while back. This is a tribute to writer’s carnival, a little something I put together for a laugh, and yes, I believe it to be funny. This is my personal experience with it told via fiction:

Fun fact: this story got me banned from the website.

Wheels On Writing

It was another Friday night, Paina was at the computer typing away, doing what it did best, trolling. Paina was literally a troll, but that term, Internet troll, it’s the real deal, trolls “troll” on the Internet.

“Sup Paina”

“Hey Sean, same old, yelling at people who dare express an opinion, it’s my way or the highway, you know how it is.”

“Absolutely, how’s the editing team?”

To this Paina looked at his windowsills lined with the trolls with random hairstyles,

“Oh, they are great. Matter a fact they never critique my writing at all, that silence is the equivalent of a thumbs up, right guys?”


“See what I mean?”

I shook my head. The truth was the truth.

“How’s the website going?”

“Great, great. The community was going a little quiet so I decided to kick off this thing where they can earn a little icon next to their name if they try to put together a story about a horror topic, the catch is I’m going to limit the length to 2,000 words and then I’m going to get all the regulars to critique about how the story isn’t in depth enough, but hey, it’s for an icon next to their user name, cool huh?”

“Sounds like a great idea, best of luck, how did my poem do in the last contest?”

“Ah, it was well written, very emotional and in-depth, but this guy Frank put one together about a butterfly flapping its wings on a sunny day, he’s definitely getting first place. You can always join in on contests in the near future. ”

“Thanks Paina, I think I will pass, best of luck with the editing team.”

The Dream Team

My name is Sean, and I’m a writer. I strive to drive emotion in the most complicated ways possible, I think fast, I think swift, and I love to paint pictures with words. I’m also one half of the internet site run by his truly, Paina, we host a site that offers the opportunity to create a gathering of writers, and help them grow to their greatest potential. We called it “Wheels on Writing”, it’s kind of like the special Olympics, regardless of personal skill, everyone has the opportunity to compete here.

I used to write to vent, now I write because it is a way to make a living. It went from me trying to sound clever, to suddenly being students at a number of different schools and becoming an expert in a bunch of shit that I truly could care a less about. Want real estate done? You got it, investing? Sure, a paper about some painter that died 30 years ago? I’m your man. Ballerina? Fuck you, go write your own dance article, I got limits and my skill is endless.


Paina was my roommate, Paina was also someone that had some money and could get just about anything published, not because he had skill, but because enough money will get any given piece of writing the opportunity to get in print. It doesn’t mean it will be successful, but it is a great way to claim one’s self as a published writer. We’ve been running the site for a while now.

I found Paina one day at the library jumping on a million forums and yelling at everyone in a way that made a two year old tantrum look like a modified intellectual in today’s world, naturally seeing how incapable he was of hearing other people’s opinions the first thought that came to mind was that he should help me moderate a site, this was the birth of “Wheels on Writing”, we made all writing dreams have the opportunity of coming true.

We were a team, at least I thought we were, up until I saw he banned me…banned me….WTF I’m half the team!
So yeah, I went to log on, but I was banned…what the fuck?

“Yo Paina, what the fuck is this dude? Why am I banned from our wesite?

“Sean, my man, it’s temporary. Ya see, in the status updates you tried to promote your own personal blog, that’s just completely not acceptable. Gotta be more subtle, ya heard me? Put that shit in the author notes, this is all about Wheels on Writing, rolling to the fuckin future. We gonna bring this community to the top heights of writing, look at this mother fucker, he got 10 badges, I mean icons, he’s a lifer fo’ sho”

I was silent…

“You really banned me for trying to get a few more people to check out my blog? It’s not that big of a deal…”

“Sean, yes it is. In status updates people want to hear about who you are eating dinner with, and whether you are playing Frisbee in the afternoon with Timmy or your dog that is blind in one eye, ya feel me?


“I think I a going to take a break for a while from the site…maybe focus on some of my professional avenues”

“Take all the time you need my man, we are here waiting for you whenever you wanna come back or get some opinions on your writing. It aint gonna be the same without ya for a bit, will make do. Oh shit look, someone wrote about a leaf blowing threw the air, we gotta feature that shit, it’s poetic!”

And that is the story about when I was half of a website and I chose to walk away for a bit and pursue some of my own personal developments. I took some time to look into writing projects, handled quite a few, developed a solid name for myself in a number of areas, and was really enjoying my own kind of work for a while there.

After a bit I missed a few members of the community, but luckily I was kept informed about the million badge opportunities that became available on a near daily basis due to email updates. Fuck trying to turn them things off, no matter what you do they find a way of jumping over your spam folder right to the top of urgent messages.

I logged onto the site, appears that I had been unbanned after discussing with Paina that I understood the rules and regulation, and decided to read one of the new posts on the site. Unfortunately, all I had the chance to see was one member’s comment because the rest of the page was badges that they had earned, I looked at who it was, Frank, the butterfly poet. Apparently he had become the poster boy for this site and written several different poems about nature, not much about rain though, that would be dark and unappealing for visitors of the site.
I clicked on the ‘contest’ tab to check out what was currently going on, and I had to hand it to Paina, the man had a plan.

Contests Cilpabooza

There were like 30 contests, none of them had any rational thought behind them, but bet your ass they were going on. I looked at the one and it read:

“Write a story in 100 words about a scary night terror”

Naturally, being a dark theme, I had to join in on this one, the problem was that when I described my character breathing and taking a step in the dark I had run out of available words to use. I took a different approach, I said fuck it, I typed one fucking word: Boo

The online response was fucking insane:

“Great fucking writing man, you put a lot of thought behind this”
“You gave me the chills, I was laying in bed reading and decided to check up on the site, and just wow, you’re talented”

I think my jaw fell to the fucking floor. Were these people serious? Boo was brilliant? Fucking Boo? I’d hate to type the word “Growl” they might fucking piss themselves.

Then, lo and behold, captain Frank himself commented:

“This is a great story. It could use a little more depth though. Maybe explain why the word Boo came into play, a little background about what the person knows about the word”
So, I responded:
“I have to keep it under 100 words though, I didn’t want to get too complicated”
“Good point, you did an excellent job, keep up the good work.”

Fuck me…what had happened to this site that had so much talent on it? I began to look through the members at one time I had conversed with a lot and it seems many of them had jumped ship. I didn’t blame them, I went into the room where Paina was and decided to talk to him.

“Paina, what the fuck happened to the site man?”
“Sean, my man, the site is off the hook. You seen these badges? People are going fuckin nuts, they love it. Subscriptions are going crazy, I think I’m gonna charge double the expense on this site next year with the sales pitch: double the price, double the badges. People will do it, they love these things, it’s a community of great feeling”

“Paina, the writing quality is going to hell, half these people don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground”

“Sean, they just learning brotha, everyone gotta start somewhere. And my man Frank here, he is going to the top. He’s got every badge I’ve ever posted to earn”

“I noticed, the computer screen freezes when his profile pops up, he’s quite accomplished”

“Sean, you got no idea. This boy got talent, look at this line of poetry he wrote:
The leaf is brown, Life has it’s ups and downs, but I won’t frown, I live in town”

Speechless…again….what could I say to that horrid shit?
“It’s bad Paina, really bad”

“You are too negative for this site okay Sean? Maybe your own blog is the way to go, this is about a supportive community. You can rejoin us anytime you want. We are having a virtual pizza party on Friday at 8, feel free to drop in, don’t forget about us”

I walked away, a site that I loved went to shit. It was run by a fool whose priorities were fucking lost, but I made the most of it. I reached out to the people that were great to talk to, the rest, I will watch from a distance as it falls apart.

Quest of Self Loathing

A Quest of Self Loathing

For beginners, I’ve been swamped with some personal projects, sorry for falling off the map. For a little while I’m going to be moving old content onto here and trying to develop more options for readership. I’m not going to be able to edit them as closely as I would like to.

I am going to make efforts toward the direction I’m going with this site very soon. I just haven’t been able to give it the time that I would have liked to lately. Without further ado: A Quest of Self Loathing

Have you ever had that feeling where you just can’t stand who you are? Of course you have; in one form or another, it’s human nature. Whether it’s the way you look, a decision that you made that you didn’t think through enough, we have all been there.

So, why am I writing about it? I guess it’s because while it seems easy enough to call human nature, it’s a human nature we tend to ignore. Instead, it’s as though we punish ourselves for it. Whether we go out and make a ton of bad decisions, lock ourselves behind doors and binge on whatever “poison” gets us through the day, or a number of different things, over time it begins to take a toll.

Again, why am I writing about this? I guess it’s because the feeling has become something so “natural” that it needs to be pointed out that it’s something as an individual CAN in fact be countered.

I ran away from life for months, I ignored key problems in my life and let them gradually bury me in an emotional coma. I then numbed myself and tried to hide from my problems. While I could sit here and blame many things the person to TRULY blame is myself.

I gained weight, hated everything I saw in the mirror, and simply became the very core of depression. One day all of that finally changed and I said enough was enough. I can sit here and continue to be disgusted with myself or I can start building toward a change.

I decided to make a change.

Since that very day I’ve strived to a better me every single day. There is no instant gratification. I’m not going to go out and jog for 10 minutes and suddenly have a 6 pack, nope, I’m going to have to work and beat out every bit of weakness I allowed into me. The point to this is this: when it comes to being harsh on self-judgment I am the king of setting standards against myself. If I can do it, anyone can do it.

If you aren’t happy with yourself take the time to make the change. If you feel embarrassed because of how people may see you struggling to make the change, screw them, they don’t matter. Starting out (again) I’d run up the street and be winded. Since the time I’ve started and now I’ve tripled that distance and still am building day by day.

Don’t let the eyes of the public hinder your own personal quest for change. The only person that can solidify being beaten is you. When you quit the game is over, as long as you remind yourself that you can be a little bit better every day then you are still building toward a better you.

I am still disgusted when I look at myself, but even then, there is the reminder “I am doing something about it.”

When depression gets a leash on you it’s incredibly difficult to break free from, but it isn’t impossible. Some days will in fact feel like complete and total hell, but even then you have to remind yourself that it’s a state of mind, and a state of mind can change from embracing something you enjoy; whether it be a book, a video game, or a simple cup of coffee.

Lastly, we have to live in a way that is set by our own personal standards. The more we concern ourselves with how others feel we should be, the more we lose ourselves and the personal identity that makes us strong as individuals. Each of us has a set of standards, a set of likes and dislikes, and the closer we keep ourselves to the things that make us special and unique, is the more likely that we will be to find true happiness.

I’m probably the most pessimistic, negative person I know. Murphy’s law applies to everything in my life; the theory of “what can go wrong will go wrong.” Even with this in mind though I am forcing myself to be aware of the fact that the only time things are truly beyond control are when you YOURSELF decide to quit.

I’ve been building myself to say everyday… fuck quitting, take life by the throat and build yourself into being something you can be proud of again. Don’t just hear it from me though…apply it to yourself…regardless of who you are or your own personal challenges, the same theory can apply.

Here is to living with a clearer mind.

I’m Guilty of Judging People

I’m Guilty of Judging People 

Call me an asshole, I call it strict policy of honesty. After all, if you can’t be honest with yourself, who can you be honest with?

Anyways, yes, I’m guilty of judging people, I really am, but so is everyone. Anyone that takes the time to actually think about what they are saying, and then actually comes out and says “I don’t judge people”, Is full of shit. We are all guilty of setting up a pre-determination of people, whether you are looking across the mall and seeing how someone behaves, or reading an email or article (such as this) there is always a spark of natural intellect where people begin to build an opinion, and bad news, that’s life. If you can’t handle life, I hear there are quite a few ways to check out early, not that I would encourage that, unless you are one of the people that just truly suck, then by all means, provide the world a small mercy, it would be appreciated.

You know those people who kind of keep to themselves and always seem to have a way to judge people quickly, without taking the time to get to know them? They seem pretty ignorant huh? Well, news flash, I could be there spokesperson, because hell, I do it all the time.

The fact is I’ve gotten through enough years of life to rely on instinct and observation, and I’ve grown to a point to accept a few things about life, and people.

1. If you look like a dick, chances are, you are probably a dick.
2. Dressing in a way to bring eyes to you may get you attention, but it wont get you respect.
3. The way you compose yourself and act creates a judgment that never goes away. First impressions are forever.
4. Pretending is stupid—be yourself, it will show eventually anyway.

Yep—I like to judge, and I judge very, very hard. For the simple fact that I believe in things in this way—Life is what you make it, and who you bring into and involve in your life should be a fairly small number.

I’d rather have a few close knit friends and a bundle of trust, then a bunch of people that I can claim I’ve been around before who truly don’t give a shit about me. I constantly see people on this die hard mission to be everyones friend and be liked by everyone, takes way too much effort, for me, better to find a few worth the time, the rest, sorry, don’t care.

To Judge—The Evaluation of People

So there are a lot of things that draw attention, I’m going to label and analyze a few for the purpose of simple amusement, but education as well.

The ‘thug’– All right, now let me explain something. If you live in a tough city area and you develop a tough exterior, and a physical psyche that makes you hard to intimidate, by all means, carry on. If you live in the suburbs, in a half a million dollar house, have all your ‘needs’ bought from mommy and daddy, and attempt the thug life…well you know how you hear about suicides and people jumping off bridges? Look into where they did it, and join them.

Tilting your hat sideways and taking up a persona on account you like rap music is something that has plagued society. It’s like a new breed of retardation hit the public eye and the government simply kept it under wraps. 2 Pac runs around screaming about respect and loyalty, gets shot, and suddenly people from then on were like “Imma a thug for realz”, no, you’re not. People who consider themselves to be thugs are morons, and there isn’t a more annoying thing to run into.


The girl who goes out of her way for attention– We have all dealt with this phenomena, whether you are the poor bastard trying to manage the girl, or the friend who tries to convince her she is drawing bad attention to herself. We all know her as the girl who loves attention, when in fact is she is either a full on bimbo or just plain stupid.

“I don’t get what they are looking at, it’s just a shirt”, yeah, maybe from when she was about 8 years old. As we grow our clothing is meant to grow with us, when you can no longer shop in the baby aisle of various clothing outlets, sad as it may seem, it is time to move to the teenager section.

I don’t know what grants a bigger headache, listening to this person talk about how no one respects them, or the 300 pound white dude that claims they are going to be the next Big Pun.

The know-it-all– Ever have a conversation with someone who seems to have the world encyclopedia in their head? While this is a reference of figurative imagination, it truly is how they act. You could be talking about a scandal that happened in Brazil in one of the very remote towns and they will pretend like they know all about it.

If there is one label that I can potentially own better than most, this would be the one affiliated with yours truly. The fact is, I try to keep an awareness of what is going on around me, but there is a fine line between being knowledgable and acting like you know it all. I try to keep well within the lines of this boundary🙂

One, It’s okay to be receptive once and a while and seem interested in a another’s thoughts and opinions, and two, people like this make you want to duct tape their mouth so that you can enjoy the sound of a breeze once and a while.

The ‘Player’– Ding Ding Ding here comes the dickmobile. Last stop, the player: The person who feels they can have all and have to respect no one. This can be male or female even though it has been based more around the male persona. The player is someone who has no respect for feelings or emotions and are not only assholes, they are insecure.

They are the same people that when discovered will cry about being alone and how they don’t know how to be loved, pathetic. Replacing internal pain with selfish behavior, dick or whore, could be either, but all together, pieces of shit.

• The person with their hand always out– This is the person who is always asking for favors and help, yet, never has the time when you need the favor returned. These people are easy to judge, and easy to dislike. We live in a world of give and return, if you just take, take, take, you are marked annoying and a pain in the ass.

Don’t get me wrong, we all hit times of hardship, but the people who refuse to try and stand on their own just drive me nuts. I see people with families doing everything they can to make ends meet, the challenge to push on being difficult, but met with a care to do better. The people who always have their hand out have given up, and sorry, but when you give up on yourself, that makes you a loser.
I call these the ‘litter of society’ as well as the majority of the population. Pretend and tell yourself otherwise, I suppose it’s healthier, but, I’m unhealthy.
To judge is to be

Like it or not, judgment is a part of life, it’s part of what makes us, us, and what composes our values. By accurately taking in what is around us it gives us a standard of how to behave, and what to expect. It is the very development of our common instinct.

For another amusing read consider clicking here.


Title: Pride


Cold shoots through my eyes
The world bends in this pretend
Things I thought I knew
Gave a grin and ran me through

With this blade in my back
I watch it all fade to black
The tarnished void rests inside
The fragments of a living lie

A taste of sorrow, a dash of care
Resentment in the form of prayer

The bruise inside intensifies
Left with myself to confide
Words laced into my veins
A spread of though bathed in pain

The ghost inside without a name
Loss I can’t seem to feign
A thing not meant to be
Awaits a breath, no longer me

Trace the jagged, broken road
The me you’ll never get to know

Cracks beneath my feet
Bury whispers of a need
A figure walks, incomplete
Blending with bleeding hopes

Dreams he’ll never know
Places he will never go
Spared from tasting loss
One last time

Down the tunnel in my eyes
Rests an ugly rift of tide
Curtains of a broken vow
One left behind until now

Each breath may fill with pain
Filled with sorrow’s song

He will face it as he bleeds
A world brought to its knees
Each breath laced with fate
Will be matched with beating hate

Each blow to knock him down
He will rise up from the ground
As wounds are stitched inside
A pulse will grow and live with pride

I hope this was enjoyed. Feel free to check out additional works by clicking here:

Wegmans is a Terrible Place to Work

Wegmans- A Great Place to Work, Really?


If you are at all like myself, the retail world is something you’ve been in and out of every other year. In and out of partly because you know to take appropriate mental breaks; from the horrible wage, the customers not worth the wage, and the managers that pretend to care about your well-being, but more importantly, because you always hold yourself in that ‘light’ of having the potential to do much more with yourself. Hence, you continue a journey for a ‘great place to work’.

Again, don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with working retail if that is what you do for a living, you get into the right position and it’s not so bad, but at the bottom of the chain, you might as well slap a chain on and start singing, because it feels damn near close to slavery.

Wegmans is considered one of the top 100 companies to work for, really? Their slogan ‘Wegmans, a great place to work’ I have personally experienced their charade, and I don’t have much positive to say about them, but I’m going to say it anyway. They base the very cornerstone of their company on ‘Values’ and god do you ever get sick of hearing them, primarily because no one truly follows them. It’s one thing to preach for a common purpose and goal, and it’s another to try and get another voice in my head, I’m full up on opinions and voices that scream inside, hard enough to get them to quiet down when I want them to.

Wegmans and its Legendary Values

If you ever have a manager, who has been demoted by the corporate strands of a company, talk to you about ‘company values’, it is code name for “you have the potential to ruin my ass” Which is what I got from my Produce manager on a near regular basis. This is yet another essence of this being a great place to work. Anytime a full-time position became available I was told how other people had more potential at the given time, and by potential, it means that their heads were buried so far up management’s ass they had a permanent glossy brown color along the ridges of their lips.

Back to these concepts of values, the driven message of the company is to pretty much love thy customer and do everything you can for them, but then, they go the extra mile of essentially saying Wegman’s employees come first, because if they don’t feel happy, they can’t provide good customer service.

Oh my, If there was ever a statement that claimed ‘welcome to hell, this is work in retail, be happy knowing your manager makes 70 grand a year, meanwhile, they found hiring me at $9.00 an hour to be a hell of an increase on labor hours for the week’

To further this analysis, I understand, retail operations use employees as they need them based on business needs. It’s a common ratio of supply, demand, estimated goods sold, and estimated man-power needed to run the operation efficiently.

I’m fully aware of the mathematical perception, I also know if you go from feeding an employee 30-35 hours a week, and then drop him down to 12-15 once business slows down a bit, he won’t be very happy with you. Well, this was one of Wegmans mottos; apparently they left it out of the hand-book. Essentially they treated you like a pimp, when things were busy you got used, when business slowed down, you got put on the shelf. Ah, such a great place to work.

Dramatic Virtues

Working within the Wegmans environment is very much like sitting down with a table of pregnant women, it’s like a slew of problems unleashed by uncontrollable hormones that lead you to having a damn near panic attack. The people who work there that last operate on a level of professionalism that I will label as ‘High School’, on account of the following:

•You like gossip
•You have no real true care about your own dignity, and you live for drama.

From the moment you walk in the door it’s almost like a game has been set off toward who can be the largest tattle tale. I lost count of the times people had mentioned things I had ‘done’, which led to ‘pure denial’ on my behalf simply as an act of trying to get ‘promoted’.

The people who remained worked with the capabilities of keeping their balls intact, I will refer to both of these people by name, Steve and Vinnie, and it is an ongoing battle.

Vinnie is gunned for on a nearly regular basis on account that he doesn’t kiss ass, the part about it that should be a human resource dream war: Diabetes has claimed over half of Vinnie’s foot, yet the audacity is put forth in my proud produce department to complain that he doesn’t work fast enough.

Have they lost their damn minds? Nope, they have simply been shitheads all along. This is further validated by the fact I know now that Vinnie has been fired.

Yet another example as to why it’s such a ‘great place to work’. As for you Steve, you have been placed in the range of what I call an abused mental patient, because the shit you have to pretend to enjoy upon arriving there is enough to make a grown man cry.

Favoritism- A Great Place to Work With the Right Blend

The assistant manager of my particular location may have written the concept on being a fake piece of shit. While he took several man hours pretending to be nice, his real goal, as a grown man, was to be buddies with all the young teenage girls of the department, which among discussion with my peers: several found to be creepy, but what was creepier was the fact that we all pegged him to be a homo from the beginning. The way he talks is very similar to taking the male anatomy, taking a very strong rope, tying it to the anatomy, and yanking is hard as you possibly can. The high pitched yelp that is released once this is done is the pitch level of a voice this particular individual had.

When he wasn’t stalking people half his age around the department trying to seem like he was hot shit, he was attempted to be bossy with the other workers, which much to his disadvantage never got him very far. He was very easy to ignore.

Wegmans- A Great Place to Work? I think not

Wegmans has all the common concepts of your basic retail store, the problem is they are generated into a cult like perception point and distributed among the employees. The place is entirely based on kissing ass, which mwww.deviantart.com/submit/devi… retail tends to lean that way sadly, but this is a bit above and beyond the ‘natural’ idea of kissing ass. Unless someone has truly experienced it, they wouldn’t understand.

The company itself continues to go to hell on account of carrying value that appeal to pretty much no one, and being run further into the ground by a management staff that couldn’t find their way out of a basement. The room for intellectual growth in the management systems stays in the higher ranks of the company, with good reason. The people you run into in a majority of stores may seem awful nice, but underneath it all, if they are wearing the tag of a manager, they are an ass-kissing moron who is about as enjoyable to talk to as getting a shot at the doctor. Find another place to shop, there are plenty of options.

End of the Night

All these scattered dreams
Nothing what it seems
Yet all the things I’ve seen
Seem caught up in between

This edge inside of me
Darkness that I see
When all that I will be
Releases from its sheath

A night of twists and promise
A breath away from everything

This leech of life inside
A fight I keep alive
With every breath, a sigh
A step toward something new

I rip you off my sleeve
Heart knowing what it needs
While this wound will bleed
I’m breaking through it all

That pain inside that comes awake
Darkened shape that become fate

The clamp that’s on my chest
It never lets me rest
While inside, lays a mess
Outside is looking fresh

Tears waiting to descend
That seek some kind of end
A thought of knowing when
Things can be okay again

Every start will share an end
Blends of truth and pretend

Every end will shed some light
And call the end to the night

Journey Part 1

I had always wondered what it would be like…the end, the light at the end of the tunnel, what the term afterlife truly meant when it was given true reality…and my discovery was rather accurate to what I thought it would be, the very definition of a boring journey.

I lived a life that followed all the proper ethical codes to land me at the pearly gates; I heard it was an incredible place. At least it was the rave of my local church, something tells me I should have paid more attention to the people that were raving about it, as opposed to the image they painted eternity to be.

For beginners, I can understand why this pearly gate is raved about so much. I’ve been standing in line for what feels like 10 years, I’m pretty sure it has been 10 years, I stopped checking my watch because apparently it doesn’t work here. Time doesn’t matter in paradise apparently.

Back to the point, I’ve been standing in line to this fucking gate for this entire time while at the front of this wonderful line of misfits is a little bald man that does the same shit over and over.

He looks at the person looking to get in, he smiles, he nods, they advance. I’d like to point one special factor out, not one person has been turned down. No one has been denied walking through the gate, which leaves me to wonder, why is this process this damn slow?

I seriously feel like I’m in a mental ward awaiting medication so that I can feel okay. My patience is in a place of constant violation and all I can think about is whether this asshole can nod any faster.

My mind is screaming, lets be fair though, no one said anything about patience being a requirement to access heaven, and I was one impatient fucker.

I’ve heard of counting sheep being a technique to try and calm ones mind, usually used to try and sleep, but even when I tried to do it all I could think about was throwing one of those animals as a means to make baldie up there a real time bobble head.

“Can you hurry the fuck up!” I screamed feeling the veins pulsate in my neck. I get it, you must think I’m just begging for them to reconsider my little stay here at Paradise Pearly Gates, I’d be lying to say I myself, but it really didn’t matter what I wanted or thought.

Divination or whatever the hell you want to call this period of time while waiting for that prick up there came with a personal space silence barrier. Nothing I said seemed to extend past the breath that escaped my mouth. Exciting right? I could hear myself think and talk, but the people in front of me and behind me? Nope. Silent as could be, as a matter a fact the one made faces at me thinking they were clever and got a full visual of me giving them the finger.

Again, there are things punishable by damnation but apparently my version of sign language wasn’t one of them. Suffice to say this person won’t look at me anymore, as much as it breaks my heart, I can’t say I care very much.

What I cared about was the time and space I was in, this so called journey toward paradise, and the fact that it seemed like anything but.

Reflection of the Sea

Reflection of the Sea
A few words; twisted charade
A chandelier of twisted spades
A crystal’s reflection; the possibilities
Those few steps that could change the world

Or the few not taken to watch it fall apart

Like an hourglass that’s been tainted
If I had the time, I’d watch
Forgiving moments I forgot to see
It’s the splinter in our eyes

The opportunities, the compromise
It’s because we care
The blanket of security we grant
A universal symbol of bond

I’d walk the earth to find you
But you were always right in front of me
The bandage on my hearts, undone

And you’ve seemed to mend the wounds

The bleeding’s stopped
Just scars and stories
And the never-ending reminder of you

The absence of just someone there
Each sunrise a plain reminder
The reflection of the sea

Somewhere out there it’s you waiting
And at some time, will be

So cross your heart, each step I take
Is another step closer to you
And I will search the earth forever
Just to make this embrace real