..created by an AI, assumes a level of creativity, or at least the ability to string together subjects into an improvised mad-lib kind of sentence and apply it to an existing beat, regardless of how much sense it makes.

So, pop music, basically.

for some is a time of prayer. For others, a reckoning of the night before. For both, reflection. It’s a spectrum, but with humility on both ends.

..aren’t the same as #ThingsPeopleProbablyDo. If you could fly around, and be unaffected by earthly things, why even stick around Earth at all?

The old writer hammers away at his keyboard, trying to build himself an alternate life. 

Sometimes all we are is small and scrappy and close to down and out, but we stick a fist in the air anyway. 

Finding time to read is sometimes a challenge, but podcasts help. Lightspeed is outstanding, but recently came across Escape Pod and listened to Water Finds Its Level by Matthew Bernardo and read by Khaalidah Muhammad-Ali.

Wow.

Great writing, but what I loved most is how cerebral the whole story was. In an age where so much is written to be filmed, this story is (nearly) impossible to film.

You can also read it over at Lightspeed Magazine.

Let no one tell you otherwise- creation is a consuming and messy business, and she’s a selfish, petulant siren. 

Relationships bound by selflessness stand fast against even the storms of time, because of the trust that cements them, like mortar. That’s why hierarchies – worker and manager – sow discord. If only one wants something from the other, trust withers. 

Desire invites power, and power corrupts. 

Around me orbits a black hole of creativity, tugging and distracting me and always pulling my attention from the present. Denying it is like denying an addiction, like denying lust. Containing it, though, is bottling lightning.
Which always destroys the bottle.