Last song: true story from my stripper days (and a poem that was born)

It was roughly two o’clock in the morning and I was high on cocaine. I had just arrived home after working a double shift at the club. After twelve hours in my six-inch stilettos, I was a zombie on stage as the last song played. My feet throbbing and longing for a hot bath, I … Continue reading Last song: true story from my stripper days (and a poem that was born)

Lost, Found, London

    I recently opened a box mailed to me from my mother back home in Hawaii that was sitting in her garage since the late 80's. I was more than a little nervous thinking about what was inside but I had an idea; memories I wanted gone but wasn't ready to abandon completely. Once … Continue reading Lost, Found, London

Who are you? (No, really)

“We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heroes or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our future. Or we can decide for ourselves. And maybe it's our job to invent something better.” ― Chuck … Continue reading Who are you? (No, really)