The Darkness Abides…

Broken Thoughts Vol. 3: Chasing Ghosts

Out Now

On Amazon

Broken Thoughts Vol. 3: Chasing Ghosts… continues Ambrose’s dissection of self through short stories, poetry, and broken thoughts. Full of rage, passion, love, and understanding. Ambrose goes deeper than ever before chasing more than ghosts into the darkness.

Stories Exclusive to this Volume…

Awaken: Something has awoken through the haunting madness of nightmares. Something dark and sinister. A lifetime of struggle with demented images leads to one fateful night as the Church of the Abandoned come to reap what they have long sowed so many years ago. Expanding further into the cult that is the abandoned. When God calls upon you… How will you answer?

Dead Body Moving: Everything is going well. Better than well really. Only not everything on the surface is as it appears. On his way to run an errand for his job Ambrose will discover more than he bargained for in this twisted tale. The cost for a little peace of mind isn’t for everyone.

2 Days In the Sun: Stuck in the desert with nowhere to go Owen’s options aren’t looking good. Stay put and die in the unforgiving heat or walk the twenty miles to the nearest town under the same conditions. In this heat and a warm bottle of water Owen should be there in no time. Follow Owen as he mingles with the eclectic locals in his search for help.  

The Pale Girl: Early preview chapter to the forthcoming novel Blood Letter. In the early days of America something wicked this way comes. A beautiful and mysterious woman has arrived at the plantation and has sparked emotions never felt before in one of the inhabitants. Proving that even in the darkest of places love can blossom. Will this new found love be the end of her or the beginning of something more?

Early Reviews

Volume 3 cuts deeper and it just keeps on cutting. Some people will find this book disturbing. Others will push past those feelings and find something deeper than they could imagine. Ambrose doesn’t hold back once again on his self-inflicting journey. Chasing Ghosts across his heart and soul.

William Stevenson, Dallas Evening News

Chasing Ghost is Ambrose’s third time out on this concept of Broken Thoughts. Each volume Ambrose finds a way to make each one different and fresh for his readers. Volume 3 is Ambrose at his best. With darker themes, darker emotions, and darker thoughts that lead straight to the heart.

Ira Bella, Aurora Chronical

It is no secret that I am a rabid fan of Ambrose. It was no secret around the office that I couldn’t wait to read this newest volume. Chasing Ghost does not disappoint. Ambrose’s writing is like a fresh cut that will never heal. There is no scar tissue to find here, only open wounds. Wounds that he invites you to crawl through, explore, and feel along with him.

Aileen Ramos, Noctifer Examiner

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And Other Things From This Time…

Staying Down

My mind is going a mile a minute
A minute a mile and I have to remember
This is only a symptom
Of something that I have created
I wish I could forget or maybe remember
Not everything has to have a reason
Heavy-handed and light-headed
I miss the days where none of this mattered
Picking my words wisely, won’t know
Which ones will be my last
Though I kind of figured
The way things are, the way they are going
It might be sooner than expected

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And Other Things From This Time…

All Fucked Up

I’d like it better if you told me
What I already had to lose
I’d like it better if you lied to me
As you already do
I can’t stand this feeling
Of having nothing left to lose
I can’t stand this idea
That I never meant anything to you

My brain is a screaming child
Always hungry never full
Begging and pleading until there’s nothing
Left to lose
It’s on pins and needles
Forks and knives
If I could stop believing I know this
Feeling won’t subside
I started, reasons sound stupid
I’m giving up, for no real reason at all
I’ve hated you, since the moment I found out
It only takes a second to go from
Stable to get the fuck out
I don’t want to go but I’m too weak to
Know for sure, what it is I will do

And Other Things From This Time… Now available on Kindle and Amazon… Free on Kindle Unlimited…. Things are coming together… Slowly, but more and more is happening… Don’t forget to leave a review… even a you should stop helps… Thank you for stopping by… Remember it all hurts… if you let it…

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And Other Things From This Time…

Anything at All

If I was to do it
I’m sure that I’d fuck it up somehow
It’s not in the method but the effort
At which we fail
I couldn’t do it so I sat staring
At the windows with the little bits
Little drops of water
They won’t go anywhere but disappear
Not the same but just like me
I know this must seem like a call
But in the end, I’m telling you it isn’t
I tried to write a letter
To explain just where my head is at
Though to be honest I’m not sure
If it is even attached anymore
Some days it feels as though it has all but vanished
That I am nothing more than an empty shell
And that’s okay but it isn’t
I wish I had better words to express how I feel
Though sadly I do not
Always wanted all the answers to all the questions
But lately, I find that I don’t want anything at all

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And Other Things From This Time…

Often

I often wonder what it feels to die
Does it feel like I do now
All alone with no one to talk too
I do this to myself
Yet I don’t know the answers to my own questions
I often wonder how soon
Will all this prove to be meaningless
They say you pave your own way
But what if it’s not true
What if this is nothing more than a collection
Of me and you
I often wonder about God
Am I him or is it you
All reason would lead to nothing at all
I feel like I know what I’m saying
But in the end it all seems to come out the same
Blood in blood out and all that shit
Maybe life is nothing more than a brotherhood
Of bull shit
I do this to myself
Get all upset for no good reason
I often wonder what it feels to die
And I know it has to feel like this

Into the Wild

I was a drifter
I was a wanderer
I was everything
You could ever want to be
I was a vagrant
I was a tramp
I was everything
You could ever want of me
I can’t die
Into the wild
I can’t die
Into the wild
My soul is my sacrifice
I can’t die
Into the wild

And Other Lost Things From This Time available on Kindle and Paperback…  Into the Wild was written and based on the same thought and idea as the movie/book… I really enjoyed Chris’s story even though it was very tragic what happened…  I was really hoping it was going to end the way a lot of us dream it would… Well worth the read if you haven’t already… The movie is also good… but there is a book… so yeah you already know… Check out both if you have the time...

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And Other Things From This Time…

Long Before

The blood it drips as it falls
The life fails as it goes on
The end is near
Though it has been all along
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
The soul fades as it goes
The death grows as it goes
The end is near
Though it has been all along
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
A heartbeat that no longer seems to feel
Destroy the will and what became left
Soulless but who really knows before it is too late
The difference between life and death
Is nothing more than a heartbeat
The difference between me and you
Is nothing more than a heartbeat
The loneliness, the sadness, the happiness
Is nothing more than a heartbeat away
The heartbeats from within my chest
The life flows from out my wrist
The end is near but it was there long before

List of Words

Some, days, I, just, wish, the, world, would, die, an, all, this, pain, could, go, away, I, dream, in, blood, I, dream, in, liquid, secretly, watching, the, human, race, disappear, discretely, having, a, hand, in, every, death, easily, amused, toxically, confused, I, always, assumed, everyone, felt, like, me, with, a, gun, to, my, head, in, the, middle, of, times, square, not, important, unless, your, famous, each, life, started, the, same, just, some, are, worth, more, in, the, end, listen, to, me, I, sound, like, a, commi, how, un-American, how, un-human, starving, for, attention, dying, for, just, a, mention, of, my, existence, easily, amused, toxically, confused, easily, amused, some, days, I, just, wish, the, world, would, die, and, I, could, assist, lighter, and, can, of, gasoline, in, hand, I, want, to, watch, this, world, burn, watch, the, survivors, crawl, through, the, ash, and, fuck, it, up, once, again, again, again, we, are, the, cockroaches, of, the, universe, universally, fucked,  begging, for, god, begging, for, any, thing, prayers, un-answered, beings, being, slaughtered, starving, surviving, dying, this, is, the world, you, live, in,  I, will, just, keep, taking, my, pills, cause, you’re, to, easily, amused.

Not the happiest pair of poems… but equally showcasing the two sides of depression…  List of Words is actually originally from Drinking Bleach and is one of the first things I wrote for that book… It is older and there for I am older since I wrote it… Assuming I aged at all or grew up since then… You can be the judge… but as much as I enjoy the nostalgia of it….

The world is in a very different place than it was when I wrote it… A sadder place I would have to say… Violence is never the answer… but I whole heartily believe there is a difference between venting frustration and acting it out… Anger… rage… and hurt are all normal emotions… Like all emotions good or bad they fade…

Now that I am older it reads very differently than when I wrote it… Writing to me is very therapeutic… It frees up thoughts or feelings that I have to make room for positive ones… I debated whether to include it… but I think that it is good… interesting… and different… Even if it isn’t true or a positive way to go about feelings such as anger… rage… or hurt… 

I’m saying all of this not because I feel guilty… but in many ways writing is very unique… There are few mediums of expression where you can be in a person’s head… Even if it is only for a second or a moment… Was I angry when I wrote the piece?… Yes… Can I remember why I was?… Not for all the money in the world… but I was… And I think that is something we can all relate too on some level… Which is also how I feel about Long Before… The difference between everything is a heartbeat so… keep your heart beating and all will work itself out… 

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Because Asking Would Be Too Off Putting…

Diving right into the subject on this one. I’m sure I’ll dip in and out of anything I have to say. Thought about all of this six hours ago. My favorite book of all time is Post Office by Charles Bukowski. If you haven’t read it well. Well, you should have by now. Bukowski is something else. Amazon has labels, the library has a section, but to me Bukowski is life. With that said is Post Office the greatest book ever written? Probably not. Could care less if anyone or no one else likes it.

The thing about Post Office that I love so much is this feeling. This feeling that life will never get better. This feeling that life is a trap. This feeling that you will always be stuck doing the same thing forever. I struggle with these issues on a daily basis as I’m sure most of us do. This doesn’t go away as we get older. But in a sense, you have to settle. I hate to use that word and by definition what I’m about to say would go against that word. You get a fucking Thesaurus I’m writing here.

Point is that in life not everything is perfect all the time. Not every aspect of your life is what you dreamed it would be. One realizes with time that the only power they have is to choose which aspects of their lives to focus on. You can only spin so many fucking plates until it all comes crashing down.

I work hard at my job. Ask any of them and I’m awesome or whatever, but that place could burn down tomorrow. I’d be more pissed that I now have to find another job I don’t care about then anything to do with that place.  I settled for my job. Oh well could give a fuck. I need money for things I actually care about.

I didn’t settle on my family or the time that I spend with them. I don’t settle on my writing. Maybe after draft eighteen, but most of the time I don’t. These are things that I can make perfect. Things that I can care about. Things that make me happy. Yes, I have that emotion somewhere deep down in there. Things I won’t settle for.

Post Office didn’t teach me any of this. What Post Office did was made me realize I was trapped. That I was lost. That I was going to get stuck. Post Office made me think and that is why books are important. I saw the parallels that I was living to the main character, and I knew that, that was not what I wanted. I knew I didn’t want to just get by in this life. I had a goal and I needed to do more than hope. I needed to do more than let the waves drag me under. Fuck what happens. That is what Post Office left me with. This feeling that what was going to happen was going to happen anyway. Might as well fuck with it until it does. We get one life. Take a chance.

“In the morning it was morning and I was still alive. Maybe I’ll write a novel, I thought. And then I did.”

Charles Bukowski, Post Office

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Weatherman…

The weatherman calls for rain, but then again it always rains here. The rain is cold and it is harsh against my clothes and against my skin. The rain comes down and it pours, and when it doesn’t pour it turns into mist that surrounds me to always let me know that it is there with me. The rain will never leave.

The weatherman calls for rain. He is an idiot in a village full of them. The rain builds up on the edges of the streets and seeps up on to the sidewalk. The rain puddles becoming giant lakes on the ground. I feel as if I am Jesus walking on water, but the holes in my shoes bring me closer to the ground than closer to god.

The weatherman calls for rain, but what does it matter? When it rains it pours and it makes days seem like weeks and weeks like months. Time stands still here only the rain and the weatherman are a constant around me. Some days it burns and some days it heals, but its presence is always with me. I wonder what it would be like without all the rain.

The weather man calls for rain, and I assume my place once again amongst the rain.

Valerie Hannigan

This micro tale about nothing is inspired by my time in Washington State. Fun fact, it rains there a lot. I remember walking to work and dodging the tidal waves created by the city buses and passing cars. For a place with so much rain it always seemed as the roads were flooded. I often arrived to work soaking wet. It was very humbling and honestly some days I miss it. Maybe it’s the youth I miss. The time before the kids. Not caring about anything. Of course, that wasn’t even the case then. Everything seemed way more important than it ever actually was.  

Another reason I wrote this story was because I could care less about the weather. Not the environment, I care about that put your fangs back in. What I mean is that I don’t care if it is raining or not. It either is or it isn’t. So, to me weather specialist is kind of pointless. Tying it all together there might be some more symbolism in there somewhere. Not sure what it could be. 

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And Other Things From This Time…

Not the Answer

Sex is an ugly thing
Do what you have to do
Then it’s all over
I write because I have to
Then it’s all over
I’d stay and talk
But I have to write
This all over
A process with meaning
Still no answers
Atheism is a question
Is there a God?
Or am I only alone
Sold a million books
Reprised the question
Why am I doing this?
If it’s not worth the effort
You think you know
And so do I
But I’m a liar
Do what I have to do
To get between your thighs
I am an animal
But then why do I feel so bad
Did what I had to do
This is no lie
This is no question
I am what I am
Is not the answer

Are you paying attention?… Does this all seem as though no one else knows?… I’d give you a clue, but even they are lost on me… Driven to madness I had no choice… I hope you understand that pieces of my soul are now available on Kindle…. Enjoy…

And Other Things From This Time…

Often

I often wonder what it feels to die
Does it feel like I do now
All alone with no one to talk too
I do this to myself
Yet I don’t know the answers to my own questions
I often wonder how soon
Will all this prove to be meaningless
They say you pave your own way
But what if it’s not true
What if this is nothing more than a collection
Of me and you
I often wonder about God
Am I him or is it you
All reason would lead to nothing at all
I feel like I know what I’m saying
But in the end it all seems to come out the same
Blood in blood out and all that shit
Maybe life is nothing more than a brotherhood
Of bull shit
I do this to myself
Get all upset for no good reason
I often wonder what it feels to die
And I know it has to feel like this

Now Available Where All Kindle Books Are Sold….

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Yes… I Sold Out Because It Is All That I Know….