honea byrne

Look at it like just a job 40 hour weeks. View it as a suffering to get money to achieve joy when I am not working? This option personalizes a synonymous with the Biblical Job.-More of that Job concept will be revealed later. Or Do I Choose to find meaning in it? To do God's will. Of which I pray every day, recently several times a day, the Alcoholics Anonymous third step prayer God, I offer myself to Thee- To build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life. May I do Thy will always! And if I look for ways that my Loh'Rd gives my life meaning, (Is a personalized meditation is seeking God's answers?) am I detaching from reality? Am I creating things in my mind that aren't real? Indeed I am learning thus far there is a systematic way that persons shape themselves...

Intro: This is about using a Black list candle to invoke vindictive harm on your enemies.But the character pays a price. The story had some chilling similarities to my real life. One can actually buy the candle in the story from a Memphis shop "Tator Reds." One can find this candle in many head shops and Voodoo Stores i.e. New Orleans... © 2007 Giving Light to Darkness and even shadows will Die.(word count 2,365) “Shadows will die.” “Shadows will die.” I repeated to my conscious mind in an attempt to think logically. After all, every logical mind deduces that ghosts and the like are not real. I came out on my front porch and lit my cigarette on the last flame of the Black List Candle. As the flame went out and I exhaled the smoke, they indeed, let their presence be known. They came as shadows without anything to cast them. There were nine of them. Nine for those I had blacklisted, those I had wished harm to. The electricity of the whole city had gone out. Their only...

The run on of emotions... Come back home four years later different than when I left. It seemed like another life before. I wrote about glimpses of it when I was emotionally rattled by my graandfather's death. In 2002 it was different: America had changed, friends had died, people who mocked me for how I was living before I left were now doing worse than me. I had seen more dead bodies than anyone should, I had gotten clean and sober, I had a car, I had money, and I had my creations (stories, music, art). Didn't want anything to deter me. Never want to go back to how I was before I left. This is what I started writing by hand 30 October 2000: Page 1 It was July 4, 2000 when Papa finally saw a doctor about a strange bump 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. I had a year and a half to go in the army. I was stationed at Fort Lee Virginia. My job w...

It was October 30, 2000 When I visited home from the US Army, to come to the realization that home would never be the same again. Seeing my grandfather dying of lung cancer really accentuated this realization. Possessed by the spirits (beer mostly), I wrote a few pages about all the emotions I was going through. Inspired by Charles Bukowski — Notes of a Dirty Old Man, and skilled with writing for over a decade at that point in time it came out pretty good. I didn't actually realize how good it was until years later.

I woke up this morning missing performing music live in Clarksdale Mississippi. Specifically, the positive feed back I would get that felt so fulfilling. My thoughts this morning centered around It's all over, I'll never have that again. For some reason I am very driven. Which a few years ago led me to purchase and rigorously study and apply Tony Robbins Get The Edge to my life. The heart break of an ex-girl friend also motivated me. She'll see how much I rock and want to get back with me. Right? No she mocked, laughed and ridiculed. As did many. I let my vindictiveness drive me. When that anger ran out it left me in great self doubt. Fortunately, my love to be creative brought me back to fulfillment-as it will again. Sometimes, it is not others bringing out the magic, it is the magic within you.

Well I'll make it big writing one day so why should I work a "real job." The world owes me... When disappointed with rejection it stifled (by choice) my creativity. When I sought to escape reality through drug use I found myself only to be inspired when I was inebriated. The dopamine flooding my brain artificially induced a spiritual bliss. Everything made sense. Thus my creativity flourished. Many artist have died seeking the high to make the ultimate piece. Years later some of what I discovered that what I wrote, music, photography, drawings I created were good. Most of it sucked. When I got clean and sober it was a blessing to find out that I could be creative without drug use. And also could get a natural high on what I created. A decisive implementation was being introduced to the book The Artist's Way by my counselor. Years later, I found myself in emotional angst and writing provided great self-therapy for me. While in this angst I too...

Thank you for reading my writings and supporting what I love to do. There are neurotransmitters, like dopamine, that go into the brain's pleasure center (nucleus accumbens)and keep us at healthy mood levels. When too many of these neurotransmitters are going into our brain's pleasure center we experience elevated moods. I am open minded to the fact that these are the times when I feel artistic, unstoppable, egotistic, and very philosophical. When not enough of these neurotransmitters get to our brain's pleasure center we experience depressive moods. I am open minded to the fact that these are the times when I feel hopeless, lonely, isolated, frustrated, humilated and paranoid. In both states I try to find reasons that are logical for me to feel the way I am feeling. When depressed I become the drama queen. "The boss didn't say hi to me at work he's going to fire me." "They didn't return my phone call. What did I do wrong?" "I feel...