Category Archives: Bios from the Womb

Samuel, the Good Samaritan

 I’m a simple man, really.  Army Specialist.  I’ve served in the Army about three years now.  My mom lives close to the base, next town over.  My dad died when I was young.  He was a cop after his Army years.  The church helped my mom raise me.  Now I do what I can to give back.  Fundraisers, camp, monthly tithe.  I believe there is always someone in need.  Even if the need seems small, it isn’t to the one who is lacking.  Jesus said, “I came not to be served, but to serve,” and I believe we’d all do better to live by that. There are three things I live by.  Three things that define me:  God, family and country. . . and Dr. Pepper.  I guess that’s four.


Rieff, the Master

The greatest force is love.  Money.  Power.  They may seem dominant, but it is the love of money and power that actually motivate. Love is the one thing that can truly drive a man mad or keep him sane.  A prime example is Hamlet and Ophelia.  The love for his father drives him mad. His sanity returns only with each Ophelian visit. Like the great Dane, my Lady is my love. My hidden strength.  I am creating a haven for her.  Her own sanctuary.  When it is perfected, and only then, I will bring her there.  Until that time, I watch her. Her cautious movements. Her studious eyes. Her auburn flowing hair.  In silence, I love her from a distance. I feel her burning in my chest. Stealing my strength with each breath.  I watch her read alone. Eat alone. Shower alone. When the time is right, I will steal her away from her loneliness. I will give her a new world. Her own world. And then she will be mine. To borrow from the eager Hamlet, “Till then, sit still, my soul.”

Eden, the Anointed

I will never leave Purgatory. Smokey, desperate and full of lust. When my parents died, I inherited the world.  I can only fathom their intentions. The off-shore accounts, the 6 bedrooms, the four cars, the pool-side view looking down upon the city are all very estimable. It appears generous but is actually only another way for them to control me.  A way for them to mold me into their image after their passing. Legacies and such non-sense. Purgatory is the dingy bar I mix potions at every night. Each night a repetition of the night before with new faces.  Serpentine, actually:  The shedding of the skin, only to remain the same. Sloths dressed like businessmen, unpaid whores searching for love, and the same grating band on stage.  I sit back, pour their drinks, and watch them run frantically in their wheels of incompetence. Endless and Ongoing.

Bethany, the Baby

Sweet Sixteen.  What an understatement.  It’s not just the driving, even though that is so cool.  It’s that there are so many things to do.  School, parties, football games, basketball games, baseball games, church, youth group, retreats.  Addie, Julie and I always have somewhere to go, something to do and someone to see.  Oh and camp.  I can’t forget camp.  That’s where I met Sam.  He must be one of my best friends.  He was a councilor and like twenty or twenty-one or something, but we just hit it off.  We email and IM pretty much every day.  He’s stationed in the Middle East.  Army or Marine.  Something like that.  Addie thinks it’s weird, him being so old and all, but really it’s not like that.  I’m already in love with someone else, and wow, is he a good reason to go to church.


It’s not so much that I’m running from my past.  I just need a clean break.  The drugs were taking their toll.  I’m trying the church thing.  High on Christ, isn’t that what they say.  So far, I’m not feeling it.  What I am feeling are the cold evenings.  I’m not feeling the warmth of H filling my throbbing veins.  I’m not feeling my lungs relax after deeply inhaling a potent smoke.  I’m not feeling the heat of a naked woman, hours after she happened to snort beside me.  But the trembling, the lost memories, the doubting myself. Something had to give. So now, I keep my nicotine close.  I go to church each time the doors open.  I pray for release, and I rub my aching veins.

Billie Jean, the Player

Everything in life is a game.  Figure out the game, learn the rules and win.  A brilliant professor told me that once.  So my goal is to win.  I suppose I should say, Bon and mine’s goal.  Bonnie’s my best friend. To Bon and I, winning looks the same:  great guy, marriage, kids. Bon and I know each other probably better than we know ourselves. We keep each other from our own stupidities. We’re family really.  Not like that ridiculous one I was born into.  My mother is a Doris Day clone, masking her misery and judging everyone by her Doris Day-standards.  Flaws being found when appearances aren’t perfect.  My father has always been perfectly happy with every woman who has turned his fancy.  A connoisseur of female pleasure.  Family.  But we are not doomed to become them.  I have Bon.  I know the rules.  I will win.  After all, life is just a game of Risk.

Lady Ophelia

I think life is pretty black and white.  Being Christian, I think that’s pretty straight forward, and really being Christian is the most important thing. I’m working on my Master of Theological Studies at Baylor’s Truett  Theological Seminary. My dissertation is on Preterism. The completion of Prophecy and Law. The Parousia. The Second Coming.  It’s all so very exciting.  My favourite days are those I spend pouring over books. I love books.  Don’t get me wrong, I have a computer.  I’m completely addicted to it, but there’s nothing like the smell of an old book.  The sound of the pages when turned.  Maybe I should’ve been a librarian. Although if that were the case, then I suppose that’s where I would be.  Fate. Destiny. Predestination.  Call if what you like, but as Solomon wrote, “many are the plans of a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” I know, with no doubt, this is where I’m meant to be.  This is where the Lord wants me.

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