SerenitySavage

Ether Cosmically Here and There Everywhere and Nowhere  All at Once Astonishing Vitality Seen Through Eyes of Earth and Sea Enigmatic  Elemental  Veracity of Nature With No Reason or Why Day or Night The Space  That Holds All Consciousness 

I can count  The weathered lines  On my hands Like the rings on a downed tree They show my age And I am so much luckier Than the three handfuls  Of my friends  That didn’t live long enough To see any wrinkles 

Moving forward I am only matching Energy I receive  So if you don’t  Like something you see I suggest you get The glass cleaner Wipe away the streaks Of your toothpaste spittle And take a deep look Into that mirror I am holding  In front of your face

I will bother to write because Andrea Gibson no longer can. Their voice is gone from this plane, but mine still has some air in it. Andrea wrote these poignant words shortly before they passed.  "Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples. I am more with you than I ever was before." "I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I could have imagined." "I decided I was too soft to last. But then I decided to be even softer." "You keep worrying you're taking up too much space. I wish you'd let yourself be the Milky Way." "Andrea would want you to know that they got their wish. In the end, their heart was covered in stretch marks." My social media feed is filled with Andrea's words. They touched more people than they could ever have imagined. Their voice will ring in our ears for years to come. Endlessly. Perfectly. I am so fortunate to have walked the Earth at the...

The other night at work, this customer handed me his card and told me he had just written a novel and that if I was an avid reader, I should look him up. I told him I was a writer myself and I would definitely check out his work. I will refer to this guy as Chris to protect his identity. When I got home, I scanned the QR code on the card and it brought up his website. The first two sentences were all I needed to read. "Chris is not your average author. An IT professional channeling cutting-edge artificial intelligence  into breathtaking narratives, Chris is redefining modern storytelling." In other words, this guy put together a 350 plus page "novel' using AI. Now I am sure it took some effort, assuming he formatted and proof read the story himself. I am not trying to shit on this guy's parade. I am sure he is proud of the work he has done, as he should be. However, this type of thing makes me want to give up on my writing. For the past decade, I have worked dili...

Yesterday, July 14, 2025, one of my favorite poets took their last breath on this Earth. Andrea Gibson's voice was silenced by the ovarian cancer she had battled since 2021. Also yesterday, I was able to receive my expensive Crohn's Disease medication that has kept my illness in remission for the past couple of years. I had to fight extra this time to get my prescription. It took me about ten phone calls over the course of two weeks for Blue Cross to sign off on this atrociously expensive medication. I was 6 days late getting it. It was an anxiety causing fight, but in the end, I was able to get my Stelara injection , 90 miligrams of medicine that gives me a decent quality of life. Why am I spared? Why is Andrea gone, this wonderful weaver of words that I could never compare to? Their condition had no medicine strong enough to eradicate it, but so far mine does. Andrea's endlessly inspirational voice has been cut short. So what will I do with mine?