Secretly hoping that you get caught and that they like what they see.

Fucking in the woods is cool and all, but there’s something different

about being alone. Maybe it makes you feel younger. I’m not sure.

Drop the pants and let it swing like tarzan. You notice a swarm of mosquitoes

nearby. One lands on your cock. It’s the closest thing you’ve had

to oral in weeks so you let it happen. Footsteps nearby. Paranoia.

Actually don’t want to get caught. Better in fantasy.

False alarm. Pants back down. It’s hot and humid so balls

are hanging low. Nice.

Too bad there’s no one here to see. Go and sit on the

bench. Start to crank, spider crawls over your ass. Get up quick. Cock is

feeling heavy today. Spin it like a helicopter and smash the damn thing.

Start jerking again. Getting close. Then Footsteps. Fast ones. Someone and

their dog. Actually have to stop this time. Oh well. Maybe next week.

Anyways, while this was our first real day, we had our class orientation at the beginning of this month. Again, more paperwork blah blah blah. But this article is not about paperwork.

At the orientation day, amidst the droning charlie brown teacher-esque lecture, the instructor mentioned that each class usually makes a group chat, to make announcements, create study groups, relay messages to the class FROM the teacher, and to do whatever else college kids do in a group chat…

That being said, the teacher mentioned that messages are relayed from the teacher to the group chat via a CLASS LEADER. Immediately you could see heads pop up like wack-a-mole characters out of a hole of boredom. Not 10 seconds after the mention of a class leader, a hand shoots up behind me as I hear a guys voice ask with an almost childlike curiousity “How does one become a class leader?”

After a brief explanation that the leader is chosen after a week or so of class, and the leader is chosen BY the class (also with some intructor input), how it looks great for future employers if you are a class leader, the conversation moved back to more class related info.

I could almost hear the hearts beating around me, pounding, already imagining the DOMINANCE and AURA of being the class leader.

It may seem silly I know, but give an opportunity for leadership, and it’s guaranteed that there will be a power struggle, hopefully politically but more primally; physically. Even if there is no real power involved with being the leader, and it may just be a bucketload of responsibity dumped on top of a struggling college student who is trying to balance working part time during an accelerated summer semester EMT program…. the truth is that being the class leader is a coveted position.

Granted, today at our first day during a converation with some new friends, I heard one mention that he has no interest in taking on that responsibility. Im sure there’s plenty more that feel the same as he does, but im also sure there are plenty who would be more than happy to accept the title of CLASS LEADER.

I was also one of the students with an increased heart rate when the CLASS LEADER was mentioned during orientation.

I know when my heart wants something. My head followed suit. So I knew I needed to do what I can to become that leader.

Today was our first day, and the potential for class leadership is still in the backs of the minds of those who are interested. I suggested a battle to the death, but it wasn’t very well received. My plan was ready to take action.

During our orientation, I had already made friends with the two guys sitting next to me as well as the two firefighters sitting in front of me, one of whom I have mutual friends with outside of school. After about an hour of lecturing, I had a piece of college-ruled notebook paper in front of me, to which I wrote on. I wrote something that I knew I, or whoever the potential CLASS LEADER would need. Something usually overlooked, but in this aspect, very valuable.

Phone numbers.

How can you have a group chat without phone numbers?

So I wrote a spot for my friend on the right of me for him to put his number. Got it. Wrote another spot for the guy on my left to put his number. Got it.

Instead of being overly eager and turning around in my seat to pass around a piece of paper to the guys behind me to get their number, I let it simmer. Lunch break. Added the two guys on my left and right to the group chat. I named it. I added a header image and a cool background for aesthetics.

Boring details aside, the plan was in action. After lunch, class mates are mingling and I’m shaking more hands and patting more backs as I continue my hunt for phone numbers. Im adding them directly into the group chat right there. 5 people in. I send the first text. “Thanks for joining!!”

This group chat is mine.

It may not seem like it, but power politics are always involved when there is any sort of group. It’s not a nefarious thing, it’s a human thing. We need leadership. We need structure. We need someone we can like, relate to, and someone who can handle issues when they come up… and I’m that guy. I know how to be liked.

For example, a girl in class came up to me at lunch and asked if I knew the campus at all. I said not really, but she asked me where the microwaves are anyways. I told her that I’m not 100% sure, but I have a good inclination that I did, and that her and I would go on a journey to find them. Bam. New friend. Showing confidence. Showing ability in the face of uncertainty… and good conversation on the way. I can tell that my looks and confidence make her nervous, but her red face was kinda cute.

It’s the little things that add up.

Towards the end of the day, there are now over 10 in the group chat. Everyone knows that I’m the one who started it. They know that I’m coming for the throne and no one is contesting it anymore.

I’ve talked to the most people in class. I remember their names. I ask them questions about themselves, without adding in my own personal narratives or subtly bragging like most people do when having a conversation.

I know what at least 5 classmates do for work. I know what motorcycles they ride. I know that one works for their family. No one asked me what I do for work, so I don’t tell them. I’m sure it will come up eventually, but the point is that I’m not interjecting conversations, eager to share personal info about myself. I can make converations out of anything.

One girl told me her name, I told her that I just finished a book with a main character who has the same name. We talked about books and reading classics. No boring “get to know you” talk. Just instant connection.

As the guys mentioned their motorcycles, they asked if I have ever ridden a motorcycle. I casually mentioned my 1300cc Harley chopper as they talk about their little 300 and 600cc bikes. No offensive guys, but mine is way more bad ass. And their reactions said that they agreed. They know it’s a cooler bike, but I never bragged about it and didn’t talk about it at all during our 30 minute conversation until I was directly asked.

Again, it’s the little things.

My leadership is not simply for a power struggle, but it’s for their benefit.

And while I havent officially been made leader yet, I took the initiative to create the group chat. People are introducing themselves. And they know I’m the owner of the chat. I have the power to name it. To change the way it looks.

I’ve already taken the position. I’m already the class leader. When it comes time for the class to choose, it wont even be a decision. I’m already there.

—

G.W.

Their almost militaristic training style and effective (yet controversial) methods have not only transformed boys into men, but have saved millions of acres and lives. So again, I mentioned to him that if he wants to get into Environmental Protection, if he wants his office secretary to be a brown bear and the receptionist an armadillo, he should try out for CalFire. And almost like a rehearsed script from a well written play on complacency, he said “I’ll probably do it some day, but I’m comfortable where I am right now.”

Dude.

First off, why are you even going to message me to ask what I’m doing, just to express interest, JUST TO receive ACTIONABLE advice to lead you down said path, and then have some BS response like that.

My only repsonse to him was “One day may never come.”

I’m not going to act like saying that is philosophically profound. But sometimes people need to hear that. I’ll bet anything that the guy messaging me probably still thinks he’s 22 with the world in front of him. Not that being 30+ is old and leaves you with less options, but the truth is harsh, and if you want to get into a career, especially with the state, it’s best to happen when you’re young with a physically capable body. Before he knows it, Mr. Comfortable is going to be 40 years old still saying One Day…

I have two words tattooed on my chest. I see them every day when I look in the mirror. Those words are “Time Flies”. It’s a constant reminder… not one of sorrow or bitterness, but of beauty, love, presence, and action. It’s a reminder to be in the here and now. To love those around me, appreciate them, appreciate the little moments, especially the tough ones. The lessons, the teaching moments, those things you look back on with a smirk or tear.

I’ve been dreaming a lot more recently. I think it’s related to my newfound hobby of drawing and using watercolor. It has given me a new medium to express my inner self. Each line, each stroke, unique to me. While it may seem like an egotisitcal way of phrasing it, my goal is completely opposite. Yes, I want to make art because I simply like it, I want to get better, and it’s a fun hobby. Maybe I have a slight undercurrent of wanting to become the greatest artist, writer, architectect and firefighter you’ve ever known, but ya know… don’t we all?

My goal with art is to give it away. I have a tendency to be possesive of things, and I noticed myself wanting to keep my watercolor sketches to myself. In my house. Where no one else will see them, enjoy them. See me, enjoy me.

I get it, artists have to make money… but If I became a great artist I would give my pieces away for free. Art is about self expression, but then having that self expression appreciated by someone else. It’s a bit contradictory, and makes you question who you’re really making it for at the end of the day.

Anyways, enough on that. I went on this tangent because during my last couple weeks of picking up art again, it takes me back to when I was a young boy. I always loved to draw, to build legos, to play outside, and to overall have a fascination with the world. My journey into art has led me to realize that most people just need to reconnect with that fascination, that joy. I believe that is the key to taking action, to following your destiny.

As a young boy, I didn’t know why I liked that little blonde girl on the playground. I just did. I don’t know what drove me to kiss her on the cheek and run away, I just did it. I didn’t question myself. It was pure humanity. Pure curiousity and becoming integrated into my self.

Children are chaotic and unsure, but they know how to like things. They like things without question. They hate things. They try things. They fail. They succeed. They fall. They get back up again with a scraped knee. Children don’t see something they desire, and sit back and say “yeaaa, ya know I’m comfortable….so I’m not going to use that rope swing into the creek.”

They just fucking do it because it’s right. It’s what we as humans know we should do. We’ve known it since before we were born. And here we men are being “comfortable” and afraid to get our hands dirty.

Children, without saying or thinking it, inherently know that one day may never come. Sure, they may believe it when their parents tell them that they are going to Disney World one day, but that child wants it NOW. And everyday in between that moment and their arrival to disney world will just feel like filler days.

Most of humanity lives and thrives in these filler days. They have nothing to desire. Nothing to train for, to look forward too. A complete lack of childlike passion for simple hobbies like reading, drawing, or even taking a walk on a nature trail.

This article is not intended to offend you, so if it did, you know what you need to work on. This article is to remind us all that our childhood passions and interest are probably still there. That what you desire, you should go after it. Chase that girl around the playground. Chase that cool bug under the slide. Climb that rope. Draw that picture. And take that opportunity. If comfort is ruling your life, just remember that…

Thanks for reading-

GW.

Subscribe now

have you ever lusted over a piece of stone? Have you fallen to your knees for the unbearable glory of shapes carved from rock?

for her, the sharp lines and corners are like razors that cut deeply into her soft white skin… but she wants the pain. she wants the pain that comes from this piece of stone, this… thing… that on its own is ugly, rough and dirty.

the stark contrast of her fresh cherry blood on pale skin imitates rich, deep black veins coursing through white marble columns.

this cold, heartless, unwavering masterpiece comforts her, as the warmth of her hand leaves bloodied palm prints dripping, dripping, dripping down to the Doric base block.

she’s not sure why she feels so safe next to this thing. in fact, she would swear to you that she hates it. she hates it’s existence and wants to see it destroyed. she has tried to destroy it. she has tried to beat it. it won’t budge, it won’t stain, it won’t sway. and its strength is why she wants it.

she imagines the men who built it. who took the chisel and hammer to the ugly and turned it beautiful. the dirty, sweaty, gross men who dedicated their lives to the construction of immortality. but those men are long gone…

tears fall and mix with blood as she beats against it. harder. harder. destory it. her pounding fists begin to swell and bruise as a concoction of sodium and plasma create a whirlpool of love and pain on the edge of the tower.

she stares upwards and the subtle curvature of the column… curvature that even though tall and unreachable somehow wraps its arms around leaving her, cradled amongst a distant sorrow from someone she’ll never meet.

she remembers why she hates it. she’s never met a man who can replicate this feeling. they always compliment her or end up crying over something. she has never experienced raw strength and power like she has now, at the base of the column.

A lifeless work of masons and laborers…heartless, cold, and unaware of its own intimidating beauty. content in its state, not to prove anything or anyone, but to be strong, holding up the weight of the world.

she hates that she can’t beat it. that it will be there long after she’s gone. that she can try and try to hurt it or bring it down… but it’s still there for her: waiting… waiting for her to come back.

Subscribe now

—

G.W.

Men now are worrying if their dating profile prompts are good enough to warrant a message from a hot girl who either will never meet up with them or is a bot trying to get you to subscribe to their online whore house. It’s honestly laughable the different ways men worry today. Women used to be the worriers. Men were at war or at work for 12 hours a day with no time to worry. Our ancestors didnt give one fuck about looksmaxxing.

When it comes to women, our male ancestors had more noble worries. “Do you think she’ll say yes to going to the dance with me?” “Should I fuck her in my Toyota Celica or behind the bleachers?”

When it comes to other worries, most stressors were righteous. “Will I have enough money to feed my family tonight?” “Where will I apply if I lose my job?” “Do I know how to fight or shoot to protect my wife and kids?”

And today you here “men” stressing over whether or not their sports bet is going to hit, or which video game they should try next.

The goal for 2026 for me, and my reccomendation to other men who may be experiencing these self inflicted useless stressors, is to eliminate them, and replace them with noble ones. I wouldn’t tell you to eliminate all stress, because I believe that underlying stress not only pushes you out of your comfort zone, but can totally drive you to success.

What is your legacy? What are you leaving behind? Are you doing enough for the less fortunate in your community? Are you following Jesus?

How far can you run without stopping? Can you swim to save your life or someone elses? Can you fight to protect yourself and others? Am I on track to be financially secure or successfull?

I think that these questions should be the sources of stress. Not whether or not you have enough money to gamble on Jew-Rigged online slots or 20 leg parlays. Cut out the slop and focus on what matters. Can you heavy weight…. Can you provide for yourself and others… Can you put your cardiovascular strength to the test… you get the point.

Do you create unncessary stress in your life? Do you have noble or righteous sources of stress? I would love to hear in the comments.

P.S. I am going live with Opium Tales tonight, Tuesday, April 7th, at 9pm Central. Make sure to tune in for that.

Subscribe now

Much Love,

-G.W.

Besides trying a new recipe or a new pickup line on some drunk girl at the bar, most guys are not setting themselves up for failure. You’ve probably been taught or for some reason think that setting yourself up for failiure is dumb, worthless, or even emasculating. You couldn’t be further from the truth.

The truth is, if you never truly challenge yourself or never do anything that you think you might fail at… you are selling yourself short. It’s normal to think that confidence only comes from succesfully doing something or winning something. While it is true, there is a completely different kind of confidence that arises when you try something even though you will probably fail.

For instance, two days ago I decided to apply to be a lifeguard on the beach here in Florida. A perfect job while I attend EMT classes two days a week. One thing though…

I have never truly swam in the Gulf. Sure, I’ve doggy paddled around, and I’ve surfed my fair share. But today I was there for my try out, wet suit equipped like Iron Man’s armor, about to jump into the rough and cold water when I realized that I have never actually swam in the open water. Let alone 500 meters through crashing waves with no one out there to save me.

Fuck it. I dived in head first. 50 meters due south head first into the waves. First bouy down. 50 meters west. Body is already in panic mode. I’m trying to control my breathing. Trying to turn my head away from the incoming waves to get a gulp of air. My lungs and my brain have disconnected, and I’m breathing out when my head pops up out of the water. Fuck. I know I need to be breathing in. Something inside me won’t let me breathe correctly. I’m 150 feet from shore and my body is already giving up on me. My muscles are screaming.

I try to get a breather by turning on my back to continue doing a backstroke. I’m still breathing in water. Im only 100 meters in. There’s absolutely no way I can do the next 400. Im already dizzy, breathing in water, and my muscles have given up. Before I passed out, I start swimming back to shore. Finally… sand. I can stand up. My legs dont want to move. They’ve never been worked in that way before. I walk up on the shore. I should feel defeated. I should feel ashamed. But I don’t. Im thankful to be alive. I’m thankful for the opportunity to push myself.

in 2024, I competed in two body building shows. I became nationally qualified. Which is sort of a big deal in the bodybuilding world. I can lift weights all day. But water is clearly a domain in which I have no skill.

Subscribe now

Sure I could’ve just gone to the beach on my own accord and attempted to swim 500 meters. But there’s no stakes. Nothing to lose.

After some throwing up and rehydrating, I immediatly went over to the local lap swimming pools and signed up for a monthly membership. I am incredibly excited to begin to train for something.

That’s what we as men, I think are lacking a lot. Something to train for. A reason. A real goal. Something to gain and something to lose.

Give yourself a crazy goal. Something you don’t do. Maybe its swimming. Maybe it’s running. Do something physical where you think you will fail. If you don’t fail, all the more to you. Try something harder. If you do fail, you will see yourself and your skills in a new light.

Your failures give you something to train for. To fight for. Failing is only a loss if you don’t learn anything.

If you read this far, please comment below with a “failure” of yours that led to improvement.

Thank you.

-GW

but what about the dairy free yogurt in the fridge?

what about the dress that I bought you because it’s the only thing I could find in an extra small?

what about all the trips I took you on?

what about that cup of coffee drank in the claw foot bath tub in the king suite overlooking the French quarter?

what about the hand drawn card and chocolate covered strawberries I made you two weeks ago?

what about the shakes you got in your legs while we laid on sweat covered sheets?

what about the scars your nails left on my back?

what about the cosmic sparks flying like meteors between us when we’d rest our foreheads together?

what about the lump in my throat when I sing that song we loved?

what about that gut punch feeling when I smell something that Ive smelled before when I was thinking about you and it makes me think about you again?

what about the memories? the tears? the blood?

what about the beautiful life and adorable kids we could’ve had?

tell me, darling… now what about that?

https://open.spotify.com/track/5wDuIDsCWKSROQY3JlDEuV?si=-ZAOpz6OSh-pS2S6jIniZQ

Fuck. Ok what is it?

“I told you I wasn’t ready for a relationship… but you started calling me your girlfriend, and that’s too much for me. I’m not in a good place right now. I feel like you just want to fix me. I can’t do this anymore.”

Fucking damnit. Ok. See ya later… I guess.

This isn’t the first time we’ve broken up. It’s the easiest time though. No canvas’s smashed over kneecaps. No holes busted through innocent bystanding doors.

A few tears fall like rain drops from dark storm clouded eys but she sheds none. I believe her. Shes not in a good place. She has no emotion. Or at least no ability to express them. I think this is for the best.

I’m really upset that I just planned a dinner to make for her. I have to eat her portion now so it wont go bad. It’s a coconut honey garlic lime Salmon dish. But hey, life goes on.

Phone buzzes. It’s a lady wanting to buy some books im selling. The Twilight Series. First edition hardcovers. She offers $50. I’ll be there.

Come home. Time to make the Salmon dish. Damn this is really good. She missed out. Can’t make ‘em stay! I’m trying my best to not be upset.

Friend texts me. What am I doing tonight. I respond almost immediately that I just planned on chilling at the house, but wondering if he has plans. I could be convinced. No response. Call him. No answer. Don’t you love when that happens?

All good. Just heard there’s a Frank Sinatra tribute downtown. I will fucking be there.

The roar of my ‘85 Harley echoes down the cold dark streets of my heart uh I mean the neighborhood. The wind on my face feels like therapy. I haven’t smoked or drank in months. Fuck it. Im doing both tonight.

The venue is packed with old white money. One dude though looks like Kash Patel, and he’s with two white women. The net worth in this place is probably $100 million give or take. Overhearing elitist sociallite conversation improves my mood. “….when I was at the Ritz-Carlton recently I…” and “I can’t do it with all this transgender shit…”.

Fly me to the moon. Everyone starts dancing. I notice that my empty drinks are starting to stack up on the side table like a serial killers trophy collection. Need a cigarette to sober up before riding. Tip the bartender way too much. He’s cool though. Didn’t ID me. Yes, I’m wearing a grey blazer, solid black shirt by Calvin Klein, grey plaid pants from Express, and black boots. I look good.

No women under the age of 40 though. maybe 50. Where are the cultured girls my age? Maybe I’ll meet some during my college summer semester.

I want kids. and a farm. and a beat up truck with a hunting dog who loves me.

Subscribe now

Oh, dear neighbor
how I await your arrival so
the glorious sound of 
your car 
                     approaching
brings me boundless joy.

Your unpredictable schedule is 
a marvel
it's like a snow   
flake
no two days are 
alike!

Sometimes it's 10 pm, and sometimes
even                3 or 8 am
No matter when, you seem to have
a talent of 
knowing when I have laid my head
down
and attempted
                       to sleep!

your car lock honking
over and over again
is your way of telling me 
                    sweet dreams!

If your car horn is wishing me 
a good nights rest
then your stomping up the stairs
must be your attempt at
              a kiss on the cheek

Oh, dear neighbor,
how sweet you are to me
you like me so much that
you want me to hear 
your fat ass elephant feet 
walk a marathon above me
                      at 1:15 am!

Love Thy Neighbor

The enemy loves to misinterpret the bible verse “Love thy neighbor” (as it is almost always said in its shortened version, using it to manipulate or distort the teachings of Jesus. This verse is Matthew 22:39 which says “Love thy neighbor as thyself”. This is an important discrimination to make. Typically this verse is used in retaliation when a Christian is speaking out against those who deliberately choose to sin, like people who use drugs addictively or those who may be in a homosexual relationship. The enemy likes to say how Jesus is all about loving everyone just as they are created, and to say that being gay is a sin is to not Love Thy Neighbor. Those who use this verse to manipulate are lost and need direction, acceptance, and understanding if we wish to have any sort of hope in leading them towards Jesus. Why?

Because loving thy neighbor as thyself looks like bringing up the elephant in the room, which according to the bible, is your neighbors continual, daily choosing to be in a homosexual relationship, or their addiction to drugs, envy, lust, gluttony, etc. To love them in a Christian way is to let your neighbor know that these actions are seperating them from God, and when he comes back for them, they may not enter the kingdom of heaven if they have not repented and accepted Jesus as their lord and savior. Loving thy neighbor is not just about blind acceptance. It’s about loving them like you love yourself. You forgive yourself when you sin. You have done terrible things and you have forgiven yourself. But, in forgiving yourself, the Christian way is to choose not to sin like that again. And so, when you apply that logic to your neighbor, you are forgiving them, and accepting who they are, but reminding them that if they continue to knowingly and willfully sin, they are seperating themselves from Jesus and the eternal peace and love of the kingdom of heaven. This is loving thy neighbor… wanting them to have ETERNAL life, ETERNAL peace, and ETERNAL happiness. Not loving your neighbor is failing to tell them that what they are choosing to do is against the will of God and come judgement day, well… let’s hope they repented.

2026 Prayer

“Lord Jesus, I pray that you continue to allow me to seek you and obtain a higher degree of love from you. May my prayer be not of unworthiness, but of nobility. I pray not to satisfy my own earthy desires, but to be a vessel for you to carry out your will on earth. Your offerings are sweet, but deliver me from spiritual gluttony and evil. Lord Jesus deliver me from any self-righteous desires I may be seeking or holding on to by worshipping you. You are my Lord and Savior King Jesus and I repent to you and accept you into my heart. Even when your light is shining brightly upon me, I remain tender to your Greatness, and will never take your offerings for granted. The food of heaven is angelic, so may my fleshly palate be cleansed, and shall I no longer find earthy temptations desirable, but may I crave the blessings of heaven, and may my heart be simple and right, with full faith in you God.”

Shame

Do not let shame or guilt trap you into viscious cycles. Forgive yourself, recognize these feelings or embarrasment, guilt, and shame, and remember how badly you don’t want to feel them. In the moment of temptation, cry out to Jesus, and seperate yourself from the demonic energy. Overcome the addiction!

Getting what you want

“There is only one things worse that not getting what you want, and that is getting it.” - Oscar Wilde

There are many times when we desire peace, maybe we desire a loving caring partner, or maybe we are desiring or praying for safety.

We may think that when desiring these things, the Lord will provide them perfectly as we imagine them. Maybe you pray for peace within your marriage, but then your wife initiates a divorce. Maybe you pray for safety on before your plane travel, and then on the runway your plan is turned around back to the airport due to adverse weather.

When your wife initiates a divorce when you desire peace, or your plane turns around, and you’re not able to get home on time, but you desired peace… your prayers have been answered. Not in your desired way of having your wife come around and apologize, or not in the way of your plane taking off and getting you home safely and on time, but they were answered. It’s a bittersweet moment to realize the mysterious ways in which he works. Prayer is not always answered in the sweet way you desire.

Mystic Catholocism and Buddhism: A Similarity

Upon reading certain portions of the New Testament as well as works by prolific Christian and Catholic writers, I noticed a potential overlapping of idealogy that I have not heard talked about yet. Although there are many potential overlaps/similarites in certain Biblical teachings with other ancient religions, this one was pretty interesting.

Matthew 16:25 says “For whoever wants to save their life shall lose it…”

Saint John of the Cross says in Dark Night Of The Soul, “… if a man have desire or care to experience it, he experiences it not; for, as I say, it does its work when the soul is most at ease and freest from care; it is like the air which, if one would close one’s hand upon it, escapes.” (Book 1 Chapter 9).

Now, I know hardly anything about Buddhism, but after reading these words from Matthew and St. John about how desire in our bodies disrupts the will of God, I was reminded about how Buddhism also teaches about the danger of desire. Buddhism teaches that craving is the root of suffering, and that desire binds the mind to impermanant things reinforcing ignorance and attachment to earthy possessions.

Both religions also teach how the desire for salvation or awakening actually becomes a hinderance in the process. It may seem confusing, how one could desire to be saved, and not be saved, but then you realize that desire is of earth and flesh.

Love God and have faith in his will for you.

Until next time…

That is all I’m going to share at this time. I truly find interest in the mystical aspects of religion, instead of simply taking all teachings and stories at face value, so there is likely to be more writing of this topic. Please share your thoughts or opinions in the comments below.

Happy new year

He’s thinking about wether or not she noticed his new aircraft grade titanium pen with the forged damascus pocket clip ($299) next to the slim profile carbon fiber wallet with $500 in it which is sitting on a rare 1947 First Edition of some mystical religious book that lays there—unread. “I sure hope she doesn’t ask me what it’s about.”

He’s also thinking about a quote from Oscar Wilde.

Do you think she even noose who that is? Probably knot.

She thinks I just want her for sex.

In reality… that’s not true. But if she knows I want her for anything more than that, my aura of mystery threatens to fucking evaporate. You can never let them know that you actually appreciate certain qualities about them. Females are like that. So I play it cool.

The comforting taste of blood still coats my throat from an intense run earlier. My six pack is not as defined as I’d like it to be so I’m on a “cut”. She has just walked into my apartment. I invited her over for my famous “steak tacos”. Even though I’ve known her for years, I forgot she was gluten free, and had to run to the store for corn tortillas. I don’t blame the little zoomette for her gluten intolerance. Monsanto or Blackrock has done something to the wheat. They are trying to poison her. I will FUCKING KILL THEM. ALL OF THEM. SLOWLY.

Whenever I begin to care about someone too much, I up my ashwagandha dosage. The root extract tends to bring about a more robotic, emotionless state that I thoroughly enjoy. Other people like it too, because when someone cares about you too much, its weird and annoying and you run away. You have to find the perfect balance. Doing things and planning stuff that shows you care, but acting like you don’t. Something like that…

Before we even say hello, she is all over me like some kind of monkey. Our lips are pressed together so hard that it hurts. We are intertwined to the point that we could not be physically any closer to each other. If we did, I was convinced our atoms would combine, causing a massive explosion killing dozens maybe hundreds. So I tried.

She thought I was joking about making her some steak tacos. She thought it was an innuendo for sex. (Which is all I want from her, totally. Remeber? I’m Mr. Cool).

To play into her little game, I tell her to undress. My apartment windows are wide open, so people can probably see her. Her tight body is of almost unimaginable proportions. The ab veins. The muscles.

She is completely naked and the pink soles of her feet stand on cold tile. I sit on the couch, snug, warm, still completely dressed. I just stare at her. She is getting ansty and I see a slight look of embarassment on her face. She has the best body I have ever seen, but I make it seem like I’m not sure about her. Sounds evil, but it does something to her. If making her feel uncertain gets her riled up, than it would be evil for me not to do it.

Minutes go by as I stare at her. Nothing behind my eyes. Not an inkling of me gives away that I’m completely in love with her.

I lead her to the bedroom. I can almost feel like heat pulsing from between her legs, ready for me. To her surprise, I got a new headboard. It’s an expensive one. I bring out the ropes immediatly and pick her up from her sexy armpits that radiate her musk and throw her on her back. I forcefully grab her wrists as I tie her to the metal posts.

I could do whatever I want with her. Ravish her. Hurt her. She trusts me.

I say, “Did you know that Israel did 9/11”?

life lets you out to play.

The Warden gives you some yard time.

Except you always know in the back of your mind, that being outdoors means someone is going to bleed out in the snow from a shank made of chain link fencing and duct tape that was stored in some guys “suitcase”.

These are times when

you remember that

you will always be a prisoner.

A prisoner to society. A prisoner to morals, with ball and chain shackles made of college educated (not far enough) leftists and Sandy, the corporate HR bitch. A prisoner to material possessions…earthly trees which bear bad fruit, born from seeds sown in shallow soil.

But there are also times when

you remember that

you are free.

Those times when the song perfectly lines up with the red light. The chorus fades into the bridge verses as the yellow light rears her head. The seemingly eternal red light shines green as soon as the heavy metal guitar strikes up and the chorus begins. You slam on the pedal as you scream the lyrics. You’re going so fast that you don’t even think about the meeting you have coming up, or those medical bills on your coffee table.

Men are born to look to the heavens. To ponder greatly at the splendors of this life we have been given.

Are we mere inmates

in the dark, somehow moist solitary confinement of our flesh and bone?

Or are we made for more?

You might think I’m at the ranch with how many different animal skins I have on. Brown Italian leather drenches me head to toe, as I walk over piles of bone—crumbling to ash and dust beneath my weight.

FUCK. the bones scraped my new leather boots. My night is fucking ruined. Give me another damn Jack and coke and let’s hope I forget about this before I stab the closest person.

Anyways…these short red cigarettes are burning a hole in my pocket—trying so hard, just short of leaving claw marks in the half rotted wood of my thighs like they’ve been buried alive.

It’s time to hop in my 2 decade old truck and turn on some fucking music. Changes by 3 doors down comes on as I spark my first of many.

The aromatic scent of rich North Carolina tobacco wafts through the cab, perfectly complimenting my dark, mysterious, musky cologne that I applied maybe a little too generously. This is what death smells like.

O, but tonight, death is not on the score card. Tonight is the night of the living!

O’ but tonight, I am Dracula searching for his lost queen, awoken from a centuries old comatose—awaiting the moment she doth appear. I can smell her. She is near.

The remnants of her voice—reminiscent of an undead choir, creates a daunting melody as it echoes down the long abandoned alley of regret and memory, reverberating across walls of hollow agony.

Tonight is the night of the living!

Tonight we are vampires on rampage. We are out for blood! And blood we will draw…

-G.W.

This article is to act as a follow up / elaboration on a few points I made, that maybe I wasn’t able to describe to their fullest extent.

Topics on dating, masculinity and femininity, gender roles, and things like that can be very convoluted, with various caveats in any given scenario. My works are never meant to act as any sort of universal truth. They are here as food for thought, and maybe to provide a new perspective and hopefully help men of all ages in their lives and relationships.

I will link the part 1 below if you missed it, but don’t worry, this post can stand alone without reading part one.

Part 2

My most recent post speaks a lot about how men should NOT be pursuing her for commitment.

It is her role at first. Meaning that I don’t believe the man should be the one asking her for a relationship.

BUT…

That does not mean you should ever be passive or hesitant in your demeanor.

Yes, you should sexually escalate. Yes, you should be confident in your self, knowing that you—at your core, are enough to be attractive and worthy of love.

Leave the commitment talks up to her. You can lead her, lead the interactions, and lead her to the idea that you would be in a relationship with her… but leave it up to her, if anyone, to bring up conversations of “what are we?”.

Think about it like this… there never really even HAS to be a commitment / exclusivity talk.

Most of the time, you can just end up in an exclusive relationship, simply because neither of you want to see other people.

If there comes a time when she causes you to become suspicious about her “exclusivity”… it is more than okay to leave that relationship with no explanation needed besides that you didn’t like her behavior.

If she is serious about you, the behavior that made you leave will stop, and she will understand her mistake.

If her behavior doesn’t change, you made the right decision to leave. Not saying that her behavior makes her a bad person, but simply that you are not fond of whatever it is she did, and there’s no reason to be with someone who makes you uncomfortable or resentful.

That applies to her as well. She can leave at any time if your behavior is unacceptable to her. Marriage is different, but obviously I’m not talking about marriage right now.

The point being…if you find yourself chasing her down-or otherwise asking for a relationship, that is the moment she will lose attraction for you.

At the end of the day, you need to have the understanding that if you are asking her for a relationship, asking for sex, or coming across as needy in any other way… this should be a sign to yourself that you have much work to do. Internal work. Shadow work. Soul work. Ego work.

Your pursuit of the relationship with the seemingly magical feminine presence that you want so badly to commit to you, is a projection of your own repressed anima (inner feminine). The lack of relationship with your own “fair maiden” inside is being projected on to an earthy woman. I talk about this more here.

It’s only human to desire a relationship with someone you find attractive, but men (and women) can tend to go to absurd lengths or do crazy things to achieve said relationship. This is nothing new. But what we CAN do, is be conscious that our overwhelming desire for this Other person is usually caused by our own inability to connect with our internal feminine or masculine. Keep yourself in check, especially as a man, when you are flooded with emotion or moods, even good ones. It’s a gateway to quickly leaning into a feminine role.

That’s all for now folks. Hope this added some additional value to yesterday’s article.

Until next time…

-G.W.

Subscribe

part 1

Who is she? She is any girl in your dating pool. She has switched her denim booty shorts and sun dresses for thrifted Carhartt and soft black leggings. Besides her outfit, she is changing her dating strategy. She has now entered “cuffing season” in exchange for leaving “hot girl summer” behind her.

There’s something about leaf lined sidewalks and haunted houses that speak to her subconscious, whispering, yet screaming that she must attach to a man like a seed pod that gets stuck in your velcro strap. Don’t blame her for this. It’s cute if anything, and at this point, it’s almost a scientific law of her feminine nature. The direction of this article is to guide you to a deeper thought of this season, and how to proceed accordingly, if you’re looking for a lasting relationship.

I would like to write bullet points in order to make it easier for you, but honestly that’s just not how my brain works and not how I like to write—so bear with me as I lay out the following concepts below.

There are a few key points when it comes to dating during this time of year. It’s much different from summer. If you’re experienced in the dating world, you understand that women of all ages are much more free and wild during the hot months. Beach vacations that are probably funded by a sugar daddy somewhere, drink tabs taller than you, and outfits that struggle to leave visible tan lines.

Because of that, her dating strategy is different, and therefore so is yours. Also, throughout this article, I obviously am not speaking for all women and or all men. There are always outliers in every way, so I am speaking about single women who date serially, maybe struggle to keep a relationship, are not ready to “settle down”, and those who like to have fun, tossing aside their morals/self control in the pursuit.

Editors note: This post is performing better than any others I have yet written. Writing this has inspired many more concepts that I will soon be posting. When you click the subscribe button below, it truly helps me continue writing.

Subscribe now

In the summer dating market, commitment is not a word in her vocabulary. Just think of “girls just want to have fun.” This is a time for you to understand what it is that she is looking for, and behave accordingly. This does not mean to fun her trips, pedicures, or rack up a disgusting bar tab, but this means to lean into the bad boy archetype. The guy who is afraid of commitment, because that would mean he has to drop his other women, put his chopper in the garage, and start doing the dishes more often. This is the type of man she is looking for in the summer. The one who knows how to show her and her friends a good time. He is the life of the party, unpredictable, and is reminiscent of a wild horse sprinting through an open prairie. Your gift to her is allowing her to “tame” you, for a night, week, month, etc.

This doesn’t mean that the bad boy is a piece of shit or treats her like one. He is just less pursuant of commitment, which sparks something in her primal lizard brain that she needs to get inside your mind and under your sheets. Use this to your advantage. Be playful with your conversation, speak less, never over explain yourself, yet be open about past mistakes. He doesn’t get jealous, doesn’t question her skimpy see through bikini, and definitely doesn’t question her about her sexual history. There is so much more on that topic, but that is for another time.

Now that I’ve explained the type of man she is looking to be with during the hot months, let’s dive into what she is looking for during cuffing season and how you can attract her without changing who you are as a person.

Cozy season causes her to yearn for a white duvet bed set, with coffee in the morning and a good book at night (with lots of sex and cuddling in between). The bad boy from her summer past can not provide that. He is busy hanging with his friends or otherwise not making her his number one priority, like what I will call “The Fall Guy”. This season calls for a man who is more available, and feels like a safer option. However, there is something important you must remember. Just because I said they need a “safer” option, this does not mean a softie or a simp.

It’s crucial to understand that even though you KNOW she wants a relationship, and she may be more interested in you than you are in her… that you must NOT be the one pursuing the commitment. You are leaving that up to her. The moment that you begin asking her “what are we”, or trying to secure her in any other way, she will be turned off. This may sound weird or hard to understand for some. For that reason, I clarified that here in Part 2 .

So therefore, you need to be masculine in the way of making it known to her that you see potential in her, but you can’t be chasing her down, leaving her with no room to breathe. You need to have the ABILITY to take her on a hay ride date night, and then not text her for four days. You need to give her space to want and like you.

I’ve had the most success in attracting women, when I treat them like a friend. Having the skill set that allows you to treat her very well, take her on a fun, thought-out, inexpensive date, yet not pursue her commitment or pursue her sexually, will likely lead you to the best results. Then again, you also don’t want to be the guy that gets friendzoned. I know it seems backwards, and maybe a little confusing, but I will explain.

That’s where the importance of escalating through sexual innuendo and physical touch / kissing or otherwise embracing. Generally, if you have made it known that you see potential, and have attempted to kiss or otherwise escalate sexually…and she is not reciprocating or receptive after 2-3 dates, I would recommend leaving that situation and not continuing to take her out. That way, you avoid any weird confusing situations and avoid spending time with someone who may be using you for attention and or free meals and experiences. Girls can be naturally shy and awkward, but if you are a guy that she feels comfortable with, and you have tried escalating to being more than friends, if you don’t feel the same energy from her, you are more than welcome to let that be known to her or otherwise leave the situation.

so…

When you pursue her for sex, you will get the opposite. When you pursue her for a committed relationship, you will get the opposite. When you are an attractive, masculine man, who is able to escalate sexually, but be indifferent towards the outcome (meaning you couldn’t care less whether you hook up or not), this will drive her crazy. A simple thing I like to remember is this: The feminine wants to seduce the masculine. When the masculine is begging or trying too hard to seduce, she can sense his outcome dependency, and will have no desire to seduce him. A masculine man understands that she wants to seduce him.

She wants what she can’t have. There is so much power in setting time constraints and hiding your intentions. When you are indifferent as to whether or not you like her as a person, want her as a girlfriend, or want to sleep with her—if she is physically attracted to you, she will likely beg you to take her.

You need to let her seduce you. She wants this. She will thank you.

Have you ever had a girl repeatedly thank you while in bed together, after begging you to take her? Many men haven’t, and won’t, because most men end up in the feminine role of trying to seduce her, trying to convince her, or otherwise talk his way into getting her to have sex with him. What a turn off. Let her work for it. Let her get her desire of “getting what she can’t have.”

So how does all of this relate to dating in autumn or “cuffing season”? The reason I explained all of that is to relay the fact that during this time, you must be okay with going on a date, then not speaking for some time. Don’t worry that she is going to forget about you or maybe she doesn’t like you, or whatever else you may be worrying about. When you worry, you are in the feminine, and you will be overcome by mood attacks.

I mentioned previously about having the ABILITY to take her on a fun date and then not talk to her for four days. And now I just mentioned it again. That you must be okay with going on a date and then not speaking for some time. I said this twice because it is extremely important to understand that I am not referring to some “tactic” or game that you need to play with her. It’s more of a “dance”…

If you intentionally ignore her texts or avoid her in hopes of winning some psychological game, you’ve got it all wrong. The entire point is that you need to be ABLE to not talk to her or see her for some time, without worrying, blowing up her messages, or otherwise becoming insecure. If you can’t go an extended period of time without texting her or begging to see her, this is because subconsciously you are seeking her validation that she is still there and still likes you. This is incredibly unattractive.

However, If you do have a girl who is wanting to spend time with you, sleep over, go on dates, cook meals together, etc… you must be okay with doing these “cutesy” fall things, all while not asking her to commit to you, and not worrying about or asking her about her potentially wild sexual history. If you are worried about her, if you are jealous due to things she does, or are insecure about her sexual past, just leaf. haha.

Buy Me A Coffee

Let her come to you with questions about exclusivity. Let her do the seducing. Your seduction is different than hers. Your seduction is not asking to fuck. Your seduction is simply being a strong, dominant, masculine presence who makes her feel safe. You are competent and can handle any situation. You are physically attractive and have things going on in your life, you are selective, and simply allowing her into your space is a huge compliment.

You are confident in your ability to compliment her beauty or other traits you find attractive about her. You are confident in speaking your mind, while not over explaining yourself or seeking validation if she or others disagree. You have a strong will, and know how to get your way.

I will “leaf” it at that for now. There is much more I could say about this topic, and I may write more about it later, but I need to go to the gym for arm day and then head downtown for a metal concert.

I love you all and thank you for reading. Please consider subscribing or upgrading to a paid subscription to help me keep writing. It is much appreciated :).

Subscribe now

Read more below:

He doesn’t have a job working in the forest. He's not training to become a wildland firefighter. All he does is squeak and squak and bite and run. Little shit.

The mouse doesn’t have bone deep scars from an excruciatingly riddled past full of pain, parental hurt, but full of intense love, passion, exploration, adventure, trials, errors, wins, loses, mistakes, great decisions, and maybe some not so great decisions.

The mouse cannot comprehend what it’s like to have feelings of deep love, but then realize that the person he thought he loved was nothing more than a projection of his own internal divine feminine onto a woman who portrayed the look. The mouse doesn’t live with the knowledge that he was the problem that caused a wonderful, beautiful, feminine presence to run away because he couldn’t be the strong, masculine, unchanging, solid rock that she needed him to be in a tough time. The stupid mouse even worried about her “body count” when they first started dating. Stupid little mouse.

The mouse didn’t crumble underneath the weight of seemingly enormous societal pressure. He didn’t cry when instead he should’ve laughed with a strong belly and told the world to get the fuck out of the way, because he’s coming through.

The mouse didn’t make excuses for himself, wasting away valuable time in a weak attempt to be some online influencer when in reality the mouse should’ve dedicated himself to a trade or found a career that brings him purpose and passion.

No…the mouse didn’t do those things.

And that is why he is much different than you and me.

What can the mouse teach you, besides avoiding traps, and how to live in a tiny house with tiny pots and tiny pans and tiny tables with tiny chairs underneath a tiny chandelier hanging from his tiny ceiling?

Well, the mouse can teach you that, even though you may think you know it all, you know nothing. There is no rulebook for life… and you will encounter situations that you have never been in before. You can read all the philosophy, psychology, pickup artistry… you name it. You will find yourself at times, unequipped for the situation at hand, mentally and or physically.

There will be times where the only option is to face your shameful fuck up, mistake, error, lapse of judgement, or whatever it was, and face it with an open mind. You need self awareness. You need to be able to analyze what went wrong, learn from it, and refuse to let it happen again. That may look like not putting yourself in that situation, or if you must, be more prepared than last time.

We are all human. We all fuck up. We all make mistakes. You might think the world is over because the girl you love has left you. You might think about ending it all when you can’t seem to get that dream job. Trust me, my friend. Thousands if not millions of people have made that same mistake. You are not alone.

Just don’t give up. Never give up on yourself. Do not let limiting beliefs or a rough past control your life. You are here to carry out a mission.

The mouse carried out his mission. He lived his little life in his little tree with his little job and a big ‘ol smile, because he knows that “happiness” means contentment with “what is”. He knows that his enthusiasm for sometimes mundane daily life means that he is “to be filled with God” (en-theo-ism).

He is not overcome with erratic feminine moods. He allows himself to be creative. He does not let the “out-there” world control his “in-there” world.

There are many things to learn from the tiny mouse, in his big tree in the big forest surrounded by big mountains grazed by big lakes on this big planet in the big galaxy. His seemingly big problems are miniscule in reality, and he will never succumb to the evil that wants him to give up.

Subscribe now

I hope you enjoyed.

-G.W.

Read more below.

People are DYING for something to do outside the usual karaoke bar, bowling, or playing pool and darts while spending too much money on overly sweetened mixed drinks and shitty pizza at the local dive.

This is where you come in. This is where you show your friends that you are a natural leader and good host. You are a high value man and member of the group who knows how to have fun and entertain. Everyone likes a good host. That’s not up for debate.

As a leader and good host, you are tasked with the initiation / invite. Call it a game night. When you call for a game night, it implies that there will be more going on than just standing around, talking… drinking… then getting bored and leaving in an hour.

It’s a game night where bringing baked goods / homemade food is encouraged. Why? Because people (women) love to bake and show off their competency in the kitchen. Doing so allows them to be in their feminine energy, feeding people while receiving admiration and praise for what they made. Women love to feed people. Men love to get people drunk.

It’s perfect… women bake cookies and cake and while men bring the Coors Banquet and hard liquor.

When you call for a game night, and your friends are already excited about what they’re going to bake or what type of beer they’re bringing, this is a great sign.

The key aspect of being a good host is understanding that your job is to be in charge of the entertainment, and knowing that your friends all just want to have a good safe time in a clean environment where they feel welcomed. It’s that simple.

In the example of a game night, you should have at least 1-2 games if not more that you can potentially play as the night progresses. I love to start out with beer pong. Hang out outside or inside (wherever is best) while people are still trickling in and grabbing drinks, and throw some balls into cups to get warmed up and in the mood to entertain and bring good energy for yourself and those around you.

That being said, here is the crucial part that made my party different from all others. My friends and I all decided as a game night… however, the idea started out as what one friend called a “powerpoint night”. Interesting, right? Well her idea was that all 12-13 of us should make a powerpoint to present. This powerpoint could be about anything and everything. At first I found it a bit weird, until I started thinking about all of the possibilities for humorous and entertaining presentations.

While she was talking about her idea, this sparked something in me. The writer/creative in me immediately thought of a “who-dun-it” situation, using all of my friends and myself as the characters. It has always been a dream of mine to host a murder mystery party, but on a large scale, like a luxury train or mountaintop mansion.

While all of us moved past the powerpoint night idea, we all decided to just keep it as a game night. A way to escape the droning, monotonous bar scene.

In my head though, I thought, why not both?

So, I got to showering. Which is where I do my best thinking. With conditioner completely covering my hair, it came to me. Turn the who-dun-it murder mystery idea into a powerpoint based drinking game (with a secret twist no one would expect.)

Don’t worry, I’m going to get into more specific details on actually hosting and throwing a party later, but maybe you’ll find some inspiration in what I did and be able to do this with your own friends.

So… I now have the idea. An interactive drinking game, where no one can be trusted and secrets lie behind every corner. Perfect. Now where do I start?

I asked AI for a basic outline of a whodunit murder mystery. I could’ve used AI a lot more on this, and you can if you need to, but I truly didn’t need to. Once I had the idea of a basic outline of a murder mystery, I got to work.

I started by introducing all 9 characters, including myself the host. Without going into much detail, lets say that the character descriptions had my own twist on them, involving personal or inside jokes, observations, and things I know about them, to make it more real and interactive for everyone involved.

Remember, everyone just wants to have fun. Don’t be so serious.

After developing all 9 character descriptions, I went into describing the story and scene. Below is an excerpt from the back story… of the game I titled “Blood In The Bayou”. (I might write an actual story on this)

“A humid early fall night met 9 friends in the backwoods of a Louisiana swamp. Chasing tales of voodoo queens and headless gators, these friends, through a series of greasy handshakes and barely understandable conversations, found the perfect spot to stay. A local fisherman’s old moonshine shack.

After settling into their rough accommodations, the 9 split off to explore the bayou. Fishing holes a plenty, abandoned boats, and gazebos reclaimed by carnivorous vines lined the ancient flood plain. A playground for those who dare…

Dark clouds roll in—and the sound of heavy droplets on the barely surviving tin roof was their cue to head back. Upon regrouping, the collapsing sinkhole of a front porch became their shelter. Looking out upon the water, the rising moon reflected only 7 faces.”

Next page:

“An oil lamp lit up the night, yielded like a Victorian detective, shining all around the group to see who is missing.

The rain is getting louder, and it’s hard to hear over the deafening howl O’rushing winds playing the hollow cypress trees like a church pipe organ of death.

The group of 7 were huddled in closely, when the screaming wind surged through the half rotten wooden porch pillars like a biblical swarm of locusts, when suddenly… WHOOSH– THE LAMP GOES DARK. Their only source of light was gone.

Almost like a pre-planned synchronicity, a loud bang accompanies the wind like a trusty sidekick. Thinking it must be nothing more than old moonshine shack quirks… the 7 begin taking roll call.

Each member is tasked with saying their name, to ensure their safety in the now complete absence of light. Now, 8 people speak. One of the missing has returned. 1 voice still is not heard. Immediately terrified, the huddled group reacts, stepping backwards and losing their footing--tripping over the heavy object lifelessly lying on muddy roots just off the porch.

The missing voice. The body.

Something is terribly wrong…”

So as you can see, I felt that creating a descriptive scene was important to draw everyone in and get them invested in the story that they are a part of.

Subscribe now

After reading this back story, I went into a round of questioning… for example, “Who is most likely to die first?” The chosen must drink. Then, I made an alibi list for some people, and then asked the group to decide whose alibi doesn’t hold up… and again the chosen must drink. Getting them involved. Having fun. Being creative. All of these things are appreciated and everyone wants to be a part of the game.

With a few other questions as well, I was ready to move on. The crazy twist that no one expected was coming up soon..

Next page:

“The 8 are sheltered inside now, under the rickety tin roof shack. Its floorboards reek of dead rodents and her walls hold on to the dry aged tobacco stains from a chain-smoking, moonshining fisherman.

Nobody can be trusted. No one is admitting to the obvious murder just outside their doorstop.

G and A have been outcasted from the group due to their suspicious actions early on (from the alibi round and other previously given clues)

They continue to investigate on their own, because they’re both adamant they did not do it.

After about 10 minutes of deliberation, the larger group has decided that they KNOW who did it. They glare over to the 2 suspicious ones.

Guided by the dim glow of a humid match stick, the large group approaches the 2. Halfway across the room, the deathly wind sweeps through the cracks of the window shutters, blowing out their last match. Lights are out. Complete darkness.”

This “darkness” was the twist. I told everyone to close their eyes for about 30 seconds to a minute, but only open them when I say. I told them that it was to emulate the darkness in the shack that night in the swamp, and that if they feel or hear people moving around it’s just old shack quirks.

These folks closing their eyes did not know that I had previously texted two friends privately, bringing them into the loop. One person I had instructed, that once I tap her shoulder, I would direct her into the bathroom, and would leave only when she hears her audio cue. The other girl I had instructed, would get up when I tap her shoulder, follow me to the bedroom… to where I would “murder” her, and play dead on the bed. She would scream… to which the girl in the bathroom would know her audio cue and come out to find the “murdered” girl.

The girl in the bathroom didn’t know I planted a prop bloody knife in the bathtub to frame her for the murder that I committed… and the only way the players would know is if they went as far as to question me, to which they would’ve found my pre-placed fake blood drenched sharpened pencil along with a note that said “Kill Her”.

It didn’t get that far, as I instructed the dead girl to come back to life and out me as her killer, so she wouldn’t have to play dead any longer.

It might not have gone perfectly, and there were a few hiccups, but my idea of a “murder-mystery-ception” was brought to life. They all thought they were just playing a murder mystery game, but halfway through, the “murder” happened in real life, and they could use their detective skills to solve it.

That’s how you throw a “killer” party… just in time for Halloween.

Another quick detail to add to your own party, whether you create a game or not… is to set the dress code. My idea was for everyone to be EXTRA. Everyone has some crazy cool clothes or fashion that they want to show off but have no occasion to wear them too. This is the occasion. The more all out the better. Accessorize, go crazy, go fancy, go… shirtless.

Be detailed about the arrival time, and any parking directions. Let your neighbors know (if applicable) that you are having some friends over, and if ya’ll are too loud, to let you know, instead of them immediately calling the police. That’s no fun.

Clean your house, especially your toilet and sink. Light some fall scented candles. Get those cat furballs out of the corner. Use this as an excuse to deep clean your house. It needs it.

That is how to throw a killer party this weekend.

I hope you enjoyed and found some value :)

Thanks for reading, and until next time…

-G.W.

Subscribe now

Static and steady and strong yet ever changing.

Coming and going and ebbing and flowing as it pleases.

Uncontrolled by any force.

The tidal wave of time will knock you off your board and thrash you and throw you and roll you until you’re on the brink of death—drowning, gasping, lungs filling with invisible demise.

I find peace in her white capped peaks, as I rip down the barrel of her eternal crescent—looking only towards the tunnel light, as her wonderous walls wrap around me reminding me of the womb.

Each ridge and bubble woven with visions of the future, as they cascade behind me—collapsing memories of the past.

The wave started with the sun, and ended with the moon. Rough rushing offshore winds slow down time, yet the moment is over in a flash.

A flash of lightning strikes the shore, blazing fire ignites the night, as I emerge from the ancient sea wreckage.

Those moments you want to last forever seem to fade the fastest.

Slowing down the drive to finish that song.

The haze of exhaustion after a long sunny day’s nap, when just another minute in bed sounds like heaven.

The perpetual, infinite dance of two souls in love—underneath twinkling celestial bodies in twilight, undying, everlasting, yet gone all too soon.

Be present, my friend. Embrace the moment fully. It will never be here again.

-G.W.

The thought of waking up before 9 am used to terrify me. Waking up terrified me. This is how you know it’s time for a change.

Change… Change… Change… Do we ever?

I crave sweat. I need the heat. I need the pressure, or else I will dwindle…

It’s a fucking Monday alright. Every red light in town is an expert bounty hunter, all of whom are out to collect the price on my head.

The price is extensive. I got caught steeling a reticulated flat woods salamander from my new job in the forest, so now the federal government is on my ass.

Something about it being critically endangered? They don’t understand me. I’m keeping it safe. They’ll never find me anyways.

On the way to work again, same place I stole the stupid lizard that they want so bad. It’s a peaceful, pleasant, pre-fall day—but I feel the heat creeping up slowly like a pervert in a waterpark.

We’re constructing a fire break today. Making sure the area between the prescribed burn radius and the nearby homes is completely clear of flammable material. Hard work, but rewarding.

I feel the perverted heat creeping in with every pass of the weedwacker, and every scrape of the rake.

Bulging blisters begin to bubble on soil dyed hands. Skin rips and sheds, exposing new.

Sweat pours down my brow ridge like an afternoon summer shower drenching a longleaf pine savanna.

With every salty drip drop of perspiration, comes inspiration. Motivation. Aspiration. To be more. To be better. To make the change.

You must act now, they tell me. You must go all in. You cannot sit on the sidelines of your own life an expect a touchdown. You must be on the field.

Well, I’m ready for it. Are you?

-G.W.

Subscribe now

Read more…