honea byrne

III.     A Glimpse of H.E.L.L. …all I had was the bottle.                                                 Bottle tipped and the putrid red liquid engulfed an all inclusive glimpse of hell "o"  (here except Lord’s Love) ,with tombstones as houses. Engulfing the Red, White and Blue police lights…YES.                                                                         The Alcoholic/A...

  From fictional memoir. Get it by clicking here       in this world I heard so much. So many things from the pawns in the game and the Cons of the Game. For at the end (0mega) and beginning (@lpha) of it all I AM   the 1 living my own life:                          i look down at my shoes i’ve                                                                                            ...

Theorem:   In order to become comfortable with a reality that we perceived as painful we made our own reality. When we saw, believed, and exclaimed our manufactured reality the psyche affiliated labeled us schizophrenic. When we relentlessly searched for “this reality” and our emotions were tied we developed seemingly unpredictable mood swings the psyche affiliated labeled us as bi-polar. When we convinced people (the masses) that our manufactured view of reality was real-WE BECAME ARTISTS.

“0” After a long absence, due to military service, I returned home to find that the way I knew things when I left could never be returned. This dreaded realization was materialized by seeing my grandfather on his deathbed. My mother conveyed the situation regarding his death over a familiar restaurant that evoked childhood memories that solemnly haunted me. The only instant escape from these haunted memories seemed to be alcoholism. Soon I came to the realization that those memories of my grandfather were only a doorway which led to what seemed at first to be an illogical series of memories that became meshed together. These meshed memories became like ghosts that have no restriction to manipulating ones perception of reality.

FOLLOW ON MYSPACE TO READ MORE CLICK LINK-http://www.myspace.com/honeabyrne/blog/540254755 COPYRIGHT 2010 2011 (C)     pAGE 1   It was July 4, 2000 when Popa finally saw a doctor about a strange bumpr on his left side underneath his armpit. Much to my mother's and grandmother's dismay the doctor said it was Cancer. And he quickly deteriorated in weeks-he had a pump in his chest that he took antibiotics through.             I was at my year and a half in my time left in the army. I was stationed at Fort Lee Virginia. My job was a grave digger (MORTUARY AFFAIRS) IN BETWEEN ALCOHOLIC BLACK OUTS AND HANGOVERS, COURTESY OF CAPTAIN MORGAN, COORS, DEAD GUY ALE, ARROGANT BASTARD ALE AND WHAT EVER ELSE I COULD CONSUME. I KEPT MY GRANDIOSE EGO Sane Enough to convince my platoon sergeant to send me to a pre-promotional board for my sergeant stripes. I did the best out of nine other soldiers in the ...