We Pray, We Pray, and We Prey

The only thing that is true in life is death. What a crock of shit.

That may be true for the rest of you. It isn’t true for me. From the Byzantine Empire to the very last second it has been me and the rest of you fuckers. Day after day waiting for a day that has yet to come. Can you imagine the things that I have seen? Like a slow trickling saline bag of useless information. How much do you think has really changed in that amount of time? A whole lot less than what you are imagining inside your head that is for sure. For a while there it was a whole lot of nothing. Waiting for the people you know to die. Can you imagine the amount of death I have had to endure? The amount of people I have had to watch just drift off into nothing. Lucky bastards. What I would give… My whole existence… Imagine that.

I’m not some kind of Zombie or God. And that’s all the time I’m going to waste on that, and believe me I could waste a lifetime explaining how I am neither of those things. Take my word when I say I have spent lifetimes proving that I am neither a zombie or related to God in any fashion. I bleed, I get sick, I hurt, I heal, and I’m still here. Something lost and mixed up in the code. Something is broken in my DNA code because I don’t age either. Forever 21 isn’t just a dying quick fashion outlet. Try that on for size. For you modern horror lovers and tweens out there I’m not a vampire either. Vampires don’t exist, get over it. Nope, I’m just one unlucky son of a bitch. We had different words back then of course. Less vile, but humanity evolves and gets lost in the translation. Twenty-seven different evolutions, that is if I was to die and be reborn, but as you can imagine I have a hard time passing for sixty-three. So, it is more like eighty-one different lifetimes I have had to endure, but who’s counting at this point? What is a day that doesn’t end? Tomorrow.   

1622 years, 3 months, and 19 days… or 592, 532 days… let that sink in…

I was born on Easter Sunday if you can believe it, of all days. No, I’m not Jesus and as I said, not related to God in any way that I have found. Maybe in their image. No, I’m not anything. I just am at this point. How’s that for an answer? It sucks. To be this god damn old, and not look a day over thirty-five. It sounds awesome, I can hear it in your head, and it isn’t all bad, but having to start over again and again. New places, new people, new identities, new processes of thought, and a never ending new. It is exhausting beyond the point of caring. Some people can’t even be bothered to change their underwear let alone give up on everything they possibly once knew. Did you know that the Earth was once the center of the universe? We believed that with all of our hearts. That’s a generalization though. Most of us could give a shit if we were the center of anything or not because we were hungry. People are still hungry by the way, but at least they know that the sun is the center of the universe. I’m sure it brings them comfort. I know it would have to all of us back then. The ones that could read that is. I didn’t learn to read until I was well into my second hundred years on what was not to be the center of the universe. What was the point? Imagine that.

Should I waste our time going over everything that it is that I have seen or had to relearn? Go over the greatest hits or are you good? Personally, I’m good, but I would like to at least stay topical. Lately the news cycle of modern man, that’s what I call you losers, is fixated on abortion and how precious life really is once again. Let me tell you it is pretty damn precious. About as precious as your rights to pursue happiness or walk down the street and not be harassed for existing. Do you know what we used to do to deformed babies? Where I was from at least, and you can extrapolate for the rest of the world because I’m sure we were not unique in any way. We’d throw those freaks of nature right over the cliffs south of my village and then kill the mother. We’d make her watch as we chucked her child into the rocks below and then to prove our point we’d slit her throat right then and there. Why didn’t we just throw her over the cliffs with the child? I’ll never know. Didn’t think to ask. That is just how it was. Best guess is that it didn’t seem humane.  Do you have any idea how dull blades made of iron can become overtime? Slitting throats by the way isn’t like the movies, quick and easy, it takes effort. One time in France I watched someone get guillotined over and over from a dull blade and poor equipment maintenance. That unlucky bastard was screaming, “I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my legs.” Over and over again like anyone gave a shit. Want to know what his crime was? Hang on to your panties… He had the balls to say the King was full of shit and enough people happened to be standing around. The river of blood that would flow down every street in America today. Paraphrasing of course, I’m sure though it was the way he said it. Because life is precious so long as it fits in with the times. At least he got to die.

Maybe I too could die by conventional means? I do bleed after all. But what if I don’t? The scars of past attempts have been enough to know that by some miracle I always pull through. Watching and waiting. That’s about all you can do with time. Replaying memories of time gone by. Even that has become boring and redundant with enough time. I thought by now I’d be on some distant planet we found and eating exotic fruits we’d never heard of. Instead, I’m sucking on dragon fruit and observing yet another debate on abortion as if we discard one. There aren’t another three to four babies screaming their way into this life. Ballpark that’s close to 10, 687 new and future assholes to take your jobs and tell you how you’ve been doing it wrong this whole time. Believe me when I say they will be very vocal about how wrong you have been this whole time as though they were born with the knowledge and not adapting to our mistakes and discoveries. It is off putting to say the least, but you’ll get over it in time or die. Unless you are me. Then getting over it and waiting is the only option. 10,687… That number to me is insane and I’ve watched it get to this point. For context, since we all love facts now, I was born one of possibly 190 million people back in 400 A.D. ish. There are 7.8 billion people now… Either get busy getting us the fuck out of here or quit getting busy…

I say “ish,” because of course we weren’t so obsessed with time like we are now. There was no, “It’s my birthday week, bitches,” type of celebration going on back in my day. Okay, boomer. Which is ass backwards if you ask me. Speaking of boomers. What a bunch of pussies. There someone had to say it. So, you had to be raised by a bunch of people who lived through the “great” depression and World War 2. “They were hard on me.” Frowning face. We conquered lands on fucking on foot like it was nobodies business. Walked uphill six miles through snow? We marched across Asia in scandals not because they were in style, but because that was the best form of foot wear we had if we had them. Only to drag your bitching and moaning asses to this point in history. Try that on for size. Think you’re so goddamn special for the things you had to endure? Well, you’re not. We all play our part in getting us here and life has been pretty soft for awhile now. There might still be plenty of real men and women walking around on this planet like we did so long ago, but I haven’t bothered to step foot anywhere they are from in centuries and neither have you. Things get gradually better, deal with it. Progress already. Where are my rockets and space travel or flying cars or any of the other bull shit ideas we’ve been kicking around?

Had I had any idea we’d still be debating abortion rights this late in the game I’d have developed the shit myself by now. That’s what faith in humanity is worth. Disappointment. Twenty-seven lifetimes and we’re debating which is more humane. To silently destroy a fetus or wait until they have thoughts, feelings, dreams, goals, a purpose, and send them off to war to kill others with the same afflictions. Only for them to come back equally as unwanted as before the day they were born. How highly evolved we have become over time. Highly evolved. That’s what they say we are now. Might as well be living in mud huts in the middle of the jungle and shitting into holes for how sophisticated we really are. How much we really care about our fellow man. Every life is so precious. Sixteen centuries later I’m here to tell you… It really isn’t.

Maybe there could have been, but that time has come and gone. Past all of us bye and we didn’t even get to say goodbye. Who knows how much more of this I am going to have to endure for no reason at all. “How much more death and destruction am I going to have to sit through,” I shout onto the sky, the dirt, to the world with no reply. How much more until the rest of you figure out what I already know? What we have always known since the beginning of time. Life and everything in it isn’t that fucking special. How we feel isn’t how it really is. How it is, is never how we really feel. The days of fucking to recreate have long since passed. We fuck for fun because we are bored. You want more of us walking, talking, and farting around? Then give us a purpose beyond standing around. If only there was a way to bring any sort of purpose to any of this. If only life mattered a little more than it did before. Purpose is the end of progression. Once you know that there is no purpose to any of anything the progression loses its worth.

In 400 A.D… ish, we thought that we were all that there ever was. We conquered lands in fear of what could be. Strangers in a strange land with even stranger ways. A misguided purpose that progressed us along. A misguided that still perpetuates simple minded people forward to this day. I’d hardly call that progression, but I guess we just have to take what we can get. Simple minded is here to stay. Incestuously we fear and we will always fear what we don’t know. Sixteen hundred years later we don’t know much more than anything. We haven’t learned to guide our misguided efforts elsewhere. Towards the stars, towards anywhere that doesn’t put any of this into the ground. The new thing is that everyone wants to be so woke about race, sexuality, gender, and who we are individually… But we have barely been born in the eyes of existence. With enough lifetimes under our belts, you’d think we’d all see that, but every lifetime is so single minded.

We are designed to only care about ourselves. I’ll admit I’m no better. All this time walking around and do you want to know what I have done to make it better?… Nothing. All this time walking amongst each of you and all those that came before you, and all I mastered was staying out of the way. My gift to a world that I haven’t cared anymore about than on my first day here. 1600 years and counting of not giving a shit. I may not be related to God, but I have to say I kind of get it. I get why she, him, they, or it hasn’t bothered to come down here and direct a day of traffic personally. How many floods before you throw your hands up and move on? I mean they killed my son and rewrote the damn book I gave them I don’t even know how many times. It is beyond frustrating to believe for even a second that they don’t care about anything more than themselves every single day. They think they’re all getting up here to live their best lives. Hedging their bets on a bunch of lies. And I’ve got some news for them. If I wanted them to wipe their asses on my couch, I’d have invited them a long time ago.

Yet, there are still some of you waiting for an invitation. A little secret between me and you. Birth was the invitation and a whole hell of a lot of you have been dragging your asses across my couch for a while now. This land was your land until you shit on it from sea to shining sea. I mean in the name of the son and the holy spirit you are running out of places to bury your shit. Some of you are living on top of mountains of your own shit right now. Mountains and mountains of trash, bodies, and chances to make a change. Y’all want to move in but I already gave you the keys. Let that sink in. Let that take a hold. Kill each other or don’t kill each other. You’re going to do it either way so what difference should it matter to me? Advance to the point that none of it matters. Highly evolve yourselves beyond the stars. Poison it all back to the start. Concern yourselves with pronouns and the beginning of life and keep shitting on all that I have given you. Keep up the great work. I’d tell you it was almost worth it but I don’t even remember how all this began anymore. Fuck it I give up. This is me now. God’s already walked out the door a long ass time ago.

It took several lifetimes to realize I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It took even more lifetimes to understand that none of this was going to figure itself out. Three lifetimes ago I decided to make the best of whatever this might be. I’m running out of lifetimes in me and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I started this wanting sympathy, but now, once again, I don’t know what I want out of any of this. A good reason to die? A life worth living? An existence that meant anything? It isn’t there, but I keep looking. I keep the flame of humanity alive in myself. I’m as selfish as a god and as awful as the devil. I am more human than any human that has come before or since. Maybe accepting humanity for what it is and not what it could be was the path we have all been walking without knowing. Maybe highly evolved was no way to ever be. After 1600 years there really isn’t anything left to say that hasn’t been ignored already.

There is this though. Whether it means anything to anyone, to the lord, or to whatever this is supposed to be. There is this one last thing. Life may not be precious, but every day is. Every day is a moment to enjoy. A moment to reflect. A moment to make a change and a choice. Everyday given is one less taken away. Take that for what it is worth to you. Take that to some higher place. Take that for granted. Take it for what it is. Just don’t let it go to waste, fall apart, and disappear.  God’s said a lot of things, made a lot of rules, made a lot of mistakes through the ages too, but their message has always been very clear.

“Humanity is only a reflection of myself and what I have to give and I have given you everything.” 1600 years of walking, talking, and farting around I may have missed out on death, but I learned plenty along the way. So, stop wiping your ass on their fucking couch and clean up after yourselves for a change. If you want to bring a life into this world, give it purpose. Simple as that. Otherwise let it go. Pretty simple too. None of us are perfect and that is by design. For better or worse. We do the best with what we got and we’ve been given plenty. Plenty more than we’ve ever really needed. Give up on the fear of the unknown and embrace the love of knowing you are not alone. Trust me watching everyone you love and everything you know die isn’t easy, it doesn’t feel good, and it’s still going to happen. The only thing that hurts more is watching all that effort and sacrifice disappear for fear of what could be next. Change is good and in enough time you’ll see that existence didn’t put us here for any real purpose, frowny face, but here we are… so highly evolved and ready to move on. 

Hopefully this story hit all the right nerves… I’m sure it will have stung a few that I wasn’t trying to hit… That’s the nature of violence… the nature of opinion…  it doesn’t always go where you intended… Not perfect by design…

For instance… I never intended to involve God in any form… other than that the character was not related or of holy decent… still isn’t… and yet by the end… God was all I could seem to think of to explain the absence of death in the character’s existence… For the record… me using “God” doesn’t imply any singular god or religious being… confusing I know with the quote at the end… But as I believe in none of them… “Humanity is only a reflection of myself and what I have to give and I have given you everything.”… is what I have gleaned from what I know about all of them… all religions are not the same… all beliefs are not the same… but I think we can all agree that at their core this is what they are getting at… opinion… you are more than welcome to disagree… but what are you fighting?…

This question gets extrapolated to everything we have ever fought for… this idea of wrong and right is endless… based in fear… dripping with unknown… we spend too much time fighting something we don’t have the answers too… fighting for something that isn’t up to us beyond the unknown while limiting what we do know… abortion… nasty topic I know… we’ve boiled it down to two very distinct sides… drawn a deep line in the sands of time… neither side is wrong by the way… pick a side I could careless… either side is about making a choice… the choice… no matter the consequences though should be yours to choose… the conflict comes when we choose to decide for others… and that is not okay… it is not fair… in a free society… we should be free to make our own choices… for better or worse… for our reasons and no one else’s… I understand I am digging up some bones literally for some of you… and for that I apologize… I’m not trying to stir up the echoes of anyone’s past…

It is a nasty subject… one that doesn’t involve me or you… unless it is me and you that this is happening too… restricting rights isn’t going to change that conversation… it isn’t going to move the needle of our evolution… that conversations is going to happen whether we have access or not… just like it is wasting our time trying to decide if anyone should have access to such rights… because they should… like it or not… they should still have the right to choose… as you do now… as we always have… in a free society… restricting people to a safe means of fulfilling their choice is inhumane… more so than taking a life that hasn’t a clue any of this exists…

Because if we are being the most honest with ourselves… there are plenty of people that are suffering here and now that we could give a fuck about… plenty of people walking… talking… and farting around… that could use your love more than you’d ever know… if you really love humanity as much as you claim… those sad souls could really use your misguided efforts to save a child that is yet to know pain… to know suffering… to understand what it means to never be loved… because they do… again opinion and choice… abortion is what it is… agree or disagree… but it is not the worst of what we do to ourselves by any means… nasty subject… and I’ve said all that was best left unsaid about this today…

On a more positive note… I really wanted to play around with the idea of someone who has been around for too many lifetimes… and not a single thing be remotely special about them… mentally the image was very tangible as too how miserable of an experience that would be… could you imagine?… I’m sure after the realization settled in… a few lifetimes… there would be a few really good lifetimes that were the most enjoyable… before settling back into this idea that life is just life… a novel concept based on our own singular lifetimes… childhood is miserable upon reflection… not quite sure what the hell is going on… then we get the hang of it… kind of… adolescence… of course we don’t really know at the time that this will be the best it ever was… but upon reflection… we know… then like a disease age sets in even further… life doesn’t become good or bad… it just is… middle age… and that is where I am… so that is where the character has to be… a snapshot of what is… not a stretch of the imagination by any means… but still one that seemed interesting to explore…

That lasted a good solid ten minutes before I took a look around and drove the car towards the nearest edge that was bothering me on the day… and here we are… more highly evolved and ready to move on… 

Hope All Is Well…

Highly Acclaimed… Some People Have Enjoyed It…

A Lie

Where did this all begin? The hurt… the pain… the confusion… the lies…

“Everything is fine. Everything is how it is supposed to be. Lie to yourself long enough and everything will be fine. Right?” A lie is the story of where all this began. For one of us at least. Struggling through life during a time when nothing feels certain. Our hopeless character figures out what it means to survive when everything is taken away… Walks away… Goes away… How it feels or how it is? Trying to regain a sense of reality won’t be easy as everything comes closing in. As the depression comes settling in and the desperation grows.

Layne Ambrose holds nothing back as he explores themes of self-discovery and isolation in a day-to-day struggle with a town and life on the brink of collapse. Desperation can and does come from anywhere. Finding solace at the bottom of a bottle… and any substance to escape these new found feelings. A lie can only be stretched so far before the truth is exposed. What is real and what isn’t? When everything feels like a lie inside your head?

Available Now On Amazon…  


Broken Thoughts… It’s All Quite Clinical…

The stars projecting my thoughts onto the screen
A movie no one asked to see, but I can’t help to inflict
I knew that if I walked a straight line I’d be here once again
Couldn’t help but to test the theory for myself
Inflict my own sense of justice until nothing was left
Rambling onto lyrics trapped in my head
Setting out to prove that not all things can die
Nothing is ever how it seems
Love could never be what I believed it to be
Passion is for lovers with something to prove
You’ve only ever proved you’ve had no passion for me
I get it now, but it’s too late to take it all away
Been poisoned for too long for an antidote to work
My symptoms are only who I’ve become
Cutting out the infection isn’t working
Cutting out all the wrong pieces to justify my life
A heap of a broken mess left behind
You’ve taken everything I was willing to give
There is no returning from death
No matter how inviting it may seem
A lesson learned from the start
I’ve read too many messages not to understand
The truth behind all these lies
I’ve lived too many days feeling the same way
Too not understand the truth of this lie
Love doesn’t cost a thing… It cost everything

Thoughts and words aren’t doing it for me… anymore…

Broken record, broken thoughts, broken excuses
For which I rest my soul upon
Sacrifice myself for some greater good
Because I’m bored to death
No nobility in my actions
Nothing honorable about how I feel in my head
Politically we’ve always been mildly incorrect
So scared of everything we didn’t already know
Silently seething about nothing at all

I only know how to suffer… and I do it so well…

Pissing on the floor
To prove a point
It wasn’t like
Any one was paying attention
Before… before all of this
Could have been something more
Before… all of this
The screams at least made sense
Before… all of this
moaning and whining
Until I’m on the floor
I wanted so much
All I wanted was more
Possessed by this demon
Of want and need
It doesn’t take long
For it all to go
A house of discarded cards
A hopelessness I can call

Broken Thoughts

Is any of this for your benefit?… probably not… that last broken thought was inspired by recent reviewing of the Exorcist… if you haven’t seen it… it is pretty good… still holds up after all these years… I first saw the Exorcist in high school though… not sure exactly when… I enjoyed it as a classic film and didn’t really find any of it frightening… at the time… I’ve actually seen it quite a few times… but I have only seen it once since having a child… this last time… and I must say that… it hits harder than you could possibly imagine… with or without the whole demon or devil aspect…

I would suggest watching it if you haven’t seen it… sans having any children of course… unless you want to cry… no idea why you’d want to cry… but if you do… no judgement… I’m not sure I’ll ever watch it again… maybe when my daughter is old enough… even then I’m not looking forward to it… which is all a round about way of saying I didn’t piss on any floors… I am very much house broken…

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?

Broken Thoughts… There’s Nothing On…

Can’t seem to focus on anything other than
The feelings left behind from before
I’m pretending they aren’t there
Acting as though they have come and gone
Never left and now I’m unsure what to do
Can’t seem to move past the things holding me down
This feeling of feeling dead inside
Been pretending that it isn’t true
Acting as though everything is normal and fine
I’ve never felt worse in my whole life
Can’t seem to focus on anything else
Other than feeling I wish I was dead
Acting as though it has come and gone
Can’t seem to move past the things born into me
These feelings deep down inside
Acting as though the thought doesn’t control me
I’ve only grown to feel worse than I did
Can’t seem to focus on much else

The thing about parenting… you don’t have to be perfect… you just have to be there…

The problem with your lies
Is that you forget that I don’t
Our words stand for more than our sins
A history that plays inside my head
A living timeline that lives on past my death
They told me it would go away
The further I got away from the source
Back around I only see everything once again
Flashbacks to a time that meant nothing
A life I have to keep living
And everyone wonders why I want to die
The problem with this life
Is that I can’t forget I don’t
Our actions carry a sentence I didn’t ask for
A history that plays over and over
Whenever I look into your eyes
The problem with lying to myself
Is that I can’t forget that I shouldn’t
Our actions and words hurt more than me
Trapped in a false sense of paradise
Locked away until the illusion dies
Smile and hope this pain will leave
The problem with living our lie
Is that you forget that I don’t
Our words stand for more than our sins
A history that plays inside my head
A living timeline that lives on…

The truth only folds into the lies… layer by layer… moment by moment…

Trapped in the same reflections
Not living the life I was meant
Sick of feeling this way
Shackled to the ground
Dead corpses rotting next to me
Open sores where the metal meets the skin
Chains I’ve attached to myself
Too afraid to live
Too afraid of death
I couldn’t survive inside my head
I’ve locked myself away in here
No longer know what it is
I want any more
From a life that never
Gave me anything before

Broken Thoughts

Still haven’t found anything to watch… which is upsetting… how am I supposed to distract myself from actually getting anything done?… Sometimes life is just too hard… but like the rest of all of you… I must power through… I’m restless really… one of those perfect days… where nothing really means that much to me… not the words… not the movie selection… not the music… or even the silence… emptiness… and yet anxious and restless… I want to do it all and nothing at all… failure after failure… with so little success…

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?

Assuming Everything Is Fine

If I was to tell you my story it would have to start like this. I woke up and I peed.  Or I woke up, I peed, and then I ate something. The simplest of variations to the start of my day. Pretty boring stuff. But I guess that’s not really the nature of a story though. Not one as complex as mine, but in fact that is how this story starts. All stories, all of our stories, can and do start with simply I woke up, I peed, and then something remarkable happened. No matter who we are. So, I guess not starting at the beginning is my only option. And not starting at the beginning my story goes a little something like this.

I woke up, I peed, I ate something, and then I said out loud, “Are you hungry?” I called this out to my wife wherever she might be in our small house. There was no reply. With the loud continuous noise coming from my wife’s office this was to be expected.  If I had to guess this unrelenting noise is probably what woke me up and now, she can’t hear me. The sound of her constantly working machine often wakes me up. This isn’t anything new. Not for the last few years or so anyway. My wife runs her successful small business right here from the back spare bedroom. She makes trinkets and other artistic things by hand, machine, or however she does it. She is very talented most of the time. Her office is often filled with all the different things she is working on. Typically, I leave her be, but I need an answer to my question.

“Are you hungry?” I question louder as I make my way towards her office. I don’t want to startle her by appearing with no warning. I’ve made this mistake one too many times and have indeed unintentionally messed up her work in some way. She often gets very into her work and naturally spaces out while she works. I wish I could have the focus she does, but that isn’t a skill I possess most of the time. Still no reply even as I stand at the doorway to her office. Her back is turned to me and she appears motionless at her desk. The machine gives off an odor that isn’t as familiar as the sound it makes loudly over and over. “Are you hungry?” I shout over the machine once again. Still, she does not move. For all I know she could be dead. But she isn’t really my wife. I mean she is my wife, but not really. She is only this version of me’s wife and I know I’m going to have to act real sad about it later.

If she is dead. I don’t get the feeling that this version of me had anything to do with his wife’s death, but I can’t be really certain either. I’ve never met this version of us in any sense. I’d like to believe that there is no version of us that could ever hurt anyone, but I know that isn’t true. I woke up on that day like any other too. I woke up and I peed. I should explain that I have a very normal bladder. I’ve never had it tested or measured, but I would say it is very average. Maybe even extremely average for a man of my height and build and age. Five foot eight and a hundred and something pounds. On second thought, divulging such facts isn’t really relevant.  I am an average man of an average size. My wife on the other hand was born with a very small bladder. Again never tested but she has always had to go more than me. So, my day began as it always began.

I woke up, I peed, and I went to the kitchen to find something to eat. Normally I like something a little sweet if it is available. Maybe two cookies right from the sleeve over the sink. Maybe even four. Really depends on my day and the day I had before. “Are you hungry?” I exclaimed. Just like recently only this was in fact a different time and there was no loud noise to drown me out either. Just like this most recent time there was no response. This next part may be a little graphic for some of you. By you of course, I mean possible me’s. I am not sure how many of us have this ability. We’ve never met in person naturally and I’m not really sure where it is that you go. Maybe for an instance you are actually me for a time as I am you for that same amount of time? It all seems so uncertain as to when and if any of this really is. A scary thought for some of you, and certainly for me. A few of us can be real bastards without even trying and that is never fair to her. In this instance though what I saw wasn’t fair to anyone.

First, I noticed blood or at least what I had hoped was maybe only a trail. Maybe people from here leave a dark red trail as they move along? As you know, if you know, anything can and is possible. I once got milk in my eyes and a scratched cornea because my eyes were where my mouth was supposed to be. Very inefficient way to eat I might add and we know how much we hate inefficiency. How is one supposed to grow a beard or not have remnants of food find their way into the opening of one’s eyes? It seems so redundant now to have ever even invented food like cereal or soup or pasta or the list of drippy foods is endless. How could a society exist under such awful circumstances? I can hear you asking yourself because I did so myself. Turns out they simply close their eyes as they eat. Food brushing asks their eyelids like the skin of our chins and gently wiping away anything left behind. Personally, I went hungry for the rest of the day. It was a very long day.

Now I always look in the mirror before or after I pee depending on how bad I have to go. I assure you that my bladder is very average for most of the versions of me. Never can be too sure that everything is where it is supposed to be. That was a longtime ago though. Even before I met my wife or our wife depending on how we are supposed to look at my situation. The trail of red leading away from the kitchen was something new at the time and was in fact blood. I know it was blood because I followed it right to the source. Right to the same doorway I found myself currently standing in. The source in that instance was of course my wife sitting very similarly as she is now. So, you can see why even as I waited for a response over my wife’s loud machine, I wasn’t too frightened or concerned as I waited. Even if she is dead assuming everything will be fine is all I can really do.  That is my mentality now of course and it was because of past encounters that I am able to reach such a mental conclusion. Then not so much.

Frustrated at the time by her obvious attempt to ignore me and my perfectly average question, “Are you hungry?” I grabbed her by the cold lifeless shoulder and turned her around with ease. The simple motion of her swivel chair rocking her head back as she still managed to look away from me. Partially headless. A little flap still hanging on by the mighty strength of skin. I recoiled in fear as I looked upon the inner workings of her throat and all that her skin once shielded from view. The amount of pressure and strength it must have taken to overcome the tension. Whatever had set “me” off must have truly made “me” snap, but again I had no idea we were capable of such horrendous acts of violence. But there it was right before my eyes. The proof that we very much were and are capable of such hideous things. I had seen many things in my life, but never had I seen such a horrible thing done to my wife of all people.  I wish they would have left a note or a warning. Something to ease the mystery of why and how. I don’t think it would have made it all that much easier to understand, but something is better than nothing.

So, I cried. Most of that day I was crying until I cried myself back to sleep. Sometimes I still cry if I think about it too much for too long. You are probably wondering why I don’t cry every day for completely different reasons. Every day a new place. Every day is something different. That part of this is easy. That part is easy because not every day is that much different from any other day. Most versions of us are just plain old boring versions of us at first glance. Few are as extreme as finding your wife nearly decapitated or have our features swapped. In fact, most “worlds” are barely noticeable in their differences. Maybe a flavor of something familiar or the light fixtures have a different brightness setting or maybe we have a different hair cut or the word “truth” has a different meaning or my voice is a few octaves higher. Some are so hard to detect that it doesn’t feel any different at all. Little differences don’t make that much of a difference in the larger scheme of life. Of course, I know that they can depending on the day. By now how could I not? Or at the very least assume? You learn to deal with it in time. As I assume you have because you are me.

Dear Lord… I just got it. When you assume you make an ass out of you and me. I wonder how many yous and mes there are out there? Returning to the present and the fact that there still is no response to my calls of, “Are you hungry?” I walk into the room expecting the worst. “Are you hungry?” I ask for a third time. Fearful that I would get no response as she sits motionless in her familiar chair. “What?” My wife calls back over the noise of her machine. A sense of relief washes over me. One murder is enough for a lifetime. She turns in her swivel office chair to face me. Her razor-sharp teeth are in full view as blood drips from her lips and she holds what is left of a human leg by the shin. What would have been the thigh picked clean to the bone. “I already ate,” she grins. “I didn’t know when you planned on getting up. Do you want what’s left?” She offers me sweetly, extending the gnawed-on leg towards my directions. Maybe a murder isn’t the worst thing to wake up to? I think to myself. Assuming everything is going to be fine is all I can really do. 

It’s a story… Not sure if it is a great story… that’s for other to decide… but it is a story… I told you I was working on some stuff… though this is not what I have been really working on… I worked on it obviously… but it was more of a side distraction to what I have been working on lately…

The format is going to be changing around here for a little bit… Until either I run out of stories or decide I have enough material gathered to create Broken Thoughts Vol. 4… Though not every story featured here will be found in Vol 4 or will every story from Vol 4 be featured on here… The new format going forward will be one story a week… followed by a week of Broken Thoughts… Two posts… I won’t drown you in sorrow…

In other news… as I gaze into my crystal ball into the future of uncertainty… the plan is to create our own podcast that we will post at the end of each story week talking about that week’s story and the previous week’s Broken Thoughts… Still researching a format… we actually want to pursue… At the moment I’m thinking of a more scripted and fictious podcast… I don’t know though… still gathering ideas…

Is a podcast something any of you are interested in?… or a giant waste of your time and ours?…  

Hope All Is Well…

Layne Ambrose

Broken Thoughts Vol. 3 : Chasing Ghost…

Now Available… Paperback or Digital…

Filled With Short Stories… Poems… and Broken Thoughts…

Broken Thoughts… I Guess No One Really Gives A Shit…

The memories they change
Remembering all the bad times
Seems to work out this way
Your selfish needs never changed
And I can’t look away anymore
Not like I ever could before
All these years spent to get here
Mild forms of abuse build up over time
The hurt seeps like an open wound
From my heart through my soul
Took long enough but I see it now
Bruised and broken… I see it now
You never cared I just thought you did
It takes two to love and the ship has sailed
It takes two and well it’s no longer there
The more I think about it
The more the memories change in my head
Remembering all the good times
Only blend in with the worst of them
When I look at you from any distance
The hurt is all I can seem to see… feel endlessly
Nothing can be the same as it was before
Took long enough but I can see you now
Finally all caught up and I know you see it too
It takes two to love and we’ve gone past empty
It takes two to love and it doesn’t live here anymore
Our memories a ghostly shadow in the back of my mind

She’s the anchor that I need to reach the floor… the one I adore…

A separation between church and state…
An illusion that is less than a myth…
There is no relief in justice…
There is no freedom in prayer…
Repeat the words as written…
The alters have all caught fire…
Burnt up matches in hand…
What did you think was my plan…
For separating these conflicting ideals?…
You act as though I give a damn…
You act as though you didn’t know…

She is in everything I see… I’d sell my soul… what it takes…

The sadness it isn’t leaving me
Haunting me more than I’d like to admit
These feelings they don’t go away
Wishing I was dead feels more like part of me
Than the little voice inside my head
Really not trying to give in
Only how it is the longer it goes
Wishing I never had to feel this way
I’m sure I’ve made a mess of things
Never could figure out anything
The feelings though
They just keep haunting me
Taking myself to that place that has taken me
Wasn’t worth it to try and understand
Running in circles was never going to give me
Anything I wanted in the end
There’s no answer at the end of a bottle
At the end of this noose but I’ve been
Compelled throughout my life to find out
Where this sadness comes from within me
Rather than searching for happiness in this life

Broken Thoughts

I don’t have much to say today… I wanted to have a bunch of things to say… Ideas kept sparking up while typing up these old memories… talk about this or that… that could be interesting… or maybe someone would give a shit about that… I’ve come to the conclusion that most people don’t give a shit… because I don’t… I could be wrong… I mostly am… some people call it being human… some people also think the earth is flat… and I’ll believe some crazy shit… but the idea that the world is in any way flat is twenty times more complicated than just being like yeah it’s round… call it being human… but life is to simple for such complex things…

See… I can’t seem to focus today… every day can’t be the best day of our lives… more shit that people say… people will say anything to keep this shit moving… me included… because I am human after all… so of course I’m going to seek out all the reasons I am sad… depressed… unhappy… broken… and ignore even the slightest happiness that may be happen around me… it has been months… maybe years… at a certain point everything becomes a blur of the same old shit… but it has been awhile since I have found the happiness in anything… beyond a fleeting second at best… not sure why that is… keeping it moving I guess… head down and never stopping… losing focus once again… I’m sure there is something in all of this… and hopefully at least one of you can see it… because I’m on my way to the next thing…

That sounds so much darker than I intended it to be… I just meant that I was on my way to working on my next project… or playing three straight hours of Binding of Isaac and wondering why I can’t seem to get anything done… better than chasing the end of a bottle I’m told… but is it?… it is… Hope all is well…

Thank you… to all of you that have been reading my first novel… the sequel is on it’s way… I promise…

Don’t forget to leave a review for A Lie…

Haven’t read it yet?… Get yours today on Amazon… Paperback and Digital available…

Broken Thoughts… Sitting All Alone…

These feelings come over me
Felt them before and forever more
If they could go away
I wouldn’t even know anymore
These feelings wash over me
Waves crashing on the beach
Waves washing up against our feet
Sweeping our existence out to sea
If there was anything left to take
I wouldn’t even know anymore
These memories taking over me
Felt them all before and how I wish
I could never feel them anymore

This depression is more than an expression of thought…

Took me by the wrist and lead me astray
Down towards the bottom of an endless pit
Sinking deeper with every breath
With every thought locked inside my head
This idea of a feeling speak more for me
Than any words I could try to say
This emptiness that I live in

Do you ever get tired of thinking about dark thoughts?… Nope…

Took what it wanted and disregarded the rest
Sharpening bones against the concrete
Chewing on the glass left behind
Sucking the marrow from the bones
Never ate so good in my life
Not sure it was supposed to feel this good
Destroying myself for the pleasure and not the fun
How do you fight a monster from within?
By embracing it with a hug and a grin…

Broken Thoughts

What to say… what to say… about feelings that won’t go away… not much that hasn’t already been said…

Woke up wanting to write and found myself with nothing to say… Day thirty-four… good news is that I’m not keeping track of such stupid things… What did I wake up wanting to write?… The next chapter in my novel would have been a good start… a short story about anything at all would have done fine too… instead I only came up with more broken-up thoughts… got a whole journal of them filling up for the next volume… not so much as far as short stories to go along with them… I have some ideas of course… I am nor have I ever been short on ideas… patience and commitment on the other hand… and their definitions… not so much…

I know I want to work on a group of short stories with a constant theme about religion and forgiveness… I still have more research to do about either one though… I know that I want to work on a group of short stories with a constant theme about love and creation… More to look up and less to think about… Then there is the short story I have stuck in my head about a writer who can’t think or remember what he said… that one is coming together nicely… though I can’t remember what it is really about…

I’m sure I will find something to work on… I always seem to do…

Book Cover

Broken Thoughts… With Windburned Skin…

Taking longer than I thought
Death doesn’t come as swiftly
As they said it would
Locked away it is no wonder
No one and nothing comes knocking
Wish I had done more
With all this time that I had
Taking in feelings of regret by looking around
Must be a kind gift handed down from above
God must not exist outside of my head
But what they’ve done is more than enough

A distance from here to there comes back around again…

When I can I know I’ll escape
Been waiting a while now
For the right time to say
Fuck it all, overtly loud and very clear
Taking on feelings of remorse
Must be some kind of gift left laying around
God must have never existed in my head
A myth I tell people to hear their plans
Either way they’ve done some pretty fucked up things

The parts I can’t explain are the parts you don’t know…

The words are sinking into a thought
The meaning of which doesn’t come as swift
Not like I imagined it would
Locked away it is no wonder
No one and nothing understands what I’ve said
Wish I had more to explain
With all this time I had to waste
Taking on feelings of repentance or is it shame?
Either way it has to be some kind of gift
Or this God inside my head
Would have ended this suffering already
At least that’s what they said

Broken Thoughts

Broken Thoughts… Could Be The One That Saves Me…

Time is going by so slow
Looks so familiar not the same as before
Waiting for a plan to come to an end
Taking so much longer than I thought
Lost in this place between the space
Wallowing in your wake
Wondering how much of this
We were meant to take
A desperation that turns to despair
Questioning reality until I no longer care

The feelings will pass.. the problems will persist…

A beautiful darkness
Hurt feelings
No repair
This has dragged on
Long enough
Too afraid to say
Raised in your image
But not the same
Set standards
Of beliefs
Not the same
In any other way
Too afraid to say
The wrong thing
Held hostage
By your generosity
No longer a gift
A burden I must carry
From the cradle
To the grave
Not much has changed
Nothing is meant
To stay the same
Stuck in the past
How it was
Not how it actually is
Left behind
When I wasn’t there
Didn’t see it then
But I get it now

Never was what I thought I was… Me of course… and no one else…

Thought maybe we could agree on something
Knew I was wrong from the start
Some people only want to watch
Thought maybe you’d have changed
Knew I was wrong from the start
Some people are only just selfish enough
To understand that they exist at all

Broken Thoughts

Truth among lies… I’ve been busy… living I guess… working on new ideas… maybe… digging a hole in the back yard… for a new Zen garden and not for any other sordid reasons… home improvement… I’m very unsure… Not really sure of much as of late… know that I need to get more work done… know that I need to manifest time in some capacity… know that my dreams are bigger than my ambitions… so not much has changed… in all the years I have spent chasing something that isn’t there… Looking forward to many more years amongst the truth among lies… In case you were worried… read too deeply into the words… or have no idea what you’ve stumbled upon…

Broken Thoughts Vol. 4: Best Left Unsaid… 2023

Broken Thoughts… Pass The Tests To The Left… To the Left…

Free ambitions for something else
The art is in the lack there of
Trying to hard to figure out who I am
Freed up all my rage… nothing left
Gave up and now I’ve got nothing to give
Face pressed hard against the glass
No longer want to be on the other side
Cracking and I’m not sure why anymore
With nothing left to say
The purpose can’t find another way
Art is in the lack there of
Trying too hard to be who I already am
Look at me… I’m too perfect to change
Scratching words into the skin
Can’t seem to see what has been here
Shouting and screaming with nothing to say
The stains only grow darker as I wait
The scars growing thicker as truth settles
Desperation grows beyond the soul
Pressed so hard against the glass
Pressing against it for no reason at all
My throats all scarred

The roots of what you can see go so much deeper than you could ever believe…

Thin lines separating thinner ideas
What could be if nothing is to be?
Broken thoughts buried in me
Leaking from my skin and onto the page
A bloody mess made of black ink
Said this all before
In so many different ways
Night after night yet
There is no end for thoughts like these
Depression doesn’t know how to end
It’s not like happiness could ever last
But if it could would I ever understand?
I’m sure I’ve said this all before
Maybe this time around it will all make sense
Then again maybe none of this ever did

Getting worse at the things that make me sane…

Listening to sad songs is only
Making these feelings worse
Strings pressing against my skin
Digging into my flesh
Scars from memories before
Sad songs to remind how I once felt
Things aren’t working the way
They once were
Impressions left on the page
Lyrics that can say more than I can
Recalling feelings from a time before
Sinking them in deeper into softer matter
Listening to sad songs is only
Making these feelings worse
And not saying much

Broken Thoughts

Broken Thoughts… I Need You To Guide Me There…

When the lord comes calling
Where will you stand amongst the rest?
On bended knees or somewhere else
Will you be shouting to the heavens
Or calling out to the great below?
A fire may rain down upon the world
A voice may call out amongst the filth
The sound of your echo spreads across the land
The Lord Jesus Christ
The Lord Lucifer
Whom have you given your life
When the lord comes calling know they will ask
Where will you rest among the dead?
Upon bended knees or somewhere else?
Just how you’ve always imagined all along

Willing to do whatever it takes… except with it takes…

Waiting for no reason at all
Listening to sad songs time forgot
No energy for anything else
Looking for the purpose to not feel
How I always seem to feel
That nothing but the end means anything
Head smashing against the concrete
Still feel the same. Negative and out of place
Cheering myself on to find the end
Rather than my place in all of this
Blood resting on the concrete
No more will to punish myself any further
Wanted more than this feeling locked in me
Up hill battle fought from within
There’s no winning if I just give in

A crow with flames for wings wants me dead… at least that’s what it said…

To the end of time
We will march and kill
March and kill
We will march and kill
March and kill
Not how I want it
Only how it is
It seems all we know
Is how to march and kill
March and kill
We will march and kill
March and kill

Broken Thoughts

It is a day like any else… a day like the last… and a day that we have yet to live… It was a day… and today is that day…