検索キーワード： 制作 "Dean Moriarty" 大衆小説

It all breaks like the tide upon the shore, where lovers ease their hurts and find their sorrows dissolved in the softness of that truth to hold and give that acceptance where love has no bounds.

Most of my books are stream of consciousness, beat writing, mystical satire, Gothic humor, coffee Zen, Noir, practical enlightenment tendencies, existentialism, quotes, vignettes, tales, and largess of the spirit in heart based frequencies.

This is an audiobook of short stories that can be listening to over a cup of coffee in some sunny nook where you can be pleasantly surprised by the twists and turns of the different tales.

These are many short sketches of daily life observed over a month of Sundays and other sundry moments.

The Rebilous Exchange, or Zen's place where the poets, dreamers, writers, and those who could and would not fit in met and lived and dreamed.

This audiobook is what it seems.

This map is an idea that time will only take you as far as time allows and being read suggests no more than it does; so never let it be said that something can't be said if it's worth saying.

I don't remember my dreams normally. I come out of dreaming and let them go and become whatever reality I'm thinking, and by the time I've found out where I am the dreams have slipped away out of mind, and no matter how rich or poor the dreaming was, nothing of it remains when I'm awake, but here are a few that did remain.

This is a book full of tales that are somewhat different than usual and were all done while drinking coffee in The Atlantic Coffee House, Cardiff.

Why are they targeting the disadvantaged? Why are the rich not taxed fairly? Why does everyone feel so powerless to make change for the better? Why is the anger of so many not being addressed? Why do the rich keep getting richer, while the poor are kept poor? Why is austerity becoming worse while the government laugh their heads off and give themselves huge pay raises and take so much? Why are they not paying for the austerity measures that they instigated and perpetuate?

This is stream of consciousness writing. This is that search for something within that we all must go through one day to find it.

Rumi said the wound is where the light gets in and this is a book about that.

And then a different bandwidth, not quite a security breach came around the corner of it all as I was writing my prayers on the wall of my indisposition, and recognizing me somehow, called out my secret name. Disappearing down a hole I'd dug for just such an occurrence I left everything I'd built over the years behind me and wondered how they'd found me or if I'd been betrayed. Well maybe I'd find out and maybe I wouldn't but I wasn't sticking around to ask questions.

Some few survivors that had resisted the zombies were rounded up too, and were put in the fridges to freeze them until needed, so that one day, when they all awoke sometime in the future, there would be slaves to work for them. As they slept, the steam powered breeding machine bred workers and stored them for using when the time came. Among the frozen survivors was Blue-Jane, See-through Mary, Captain Crust, and some others that in their frozen sleep dreamed about a story that ate itself to become a paradox monkey that was hard to figure out.

This is about Captain Morgan Jones of the Vindaloo Curry, a submarine he found in the desert one day, and after hauling it back to the ocean by camel train, set it to floating again after repairing a few holes. After trial and error and a lot of huffing and puffing, he managed to get to the Taff River and after sailing up it to Ponty, took on a crew and then set off for the Orient and many adventures.

"Come look through this window to see what isn't there where we have dates that simmer in the sun and we have barracuda timing and ideograms in the points of rust to shake your gates as you yawn," said the Sultan, selling dates.

I walked into this story from a hard place as an old perspective of confusion crept in over the stone of silence I was singing and went for the heart of me as I was calibrating some another dream that was easy to forget under the big sky, and so was taken unaware.

This book is about the ghost dance to send the evil ones back to where they came from.

The soup sandwich of this must be: we do it every day but that is not why we do it.

Stream of consciousness with beat writing in a satirical, Gothic, noir and Zen setting.