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I. Will. Revolt.


I will be a better person
I will help out where I can
I will commit to listen
I will not demand

I will be attentive
I will not draw the line
I will shelter vulnerable
I will not waste time

I will learn from watching
I will teach by showing
I will be more conscious
I will devote to knowing

I will be compassionate
I will give more than I take
I will be grateful
I will forgive mistakes

I will reserve my judgment
I will share my opinion
I will be respectful
I will not be a minion

I will stand against oppressors
I will fight for no ones war
I will love the neglected
I will recompense more

I will deflect aggression
I will not insult
I will not flee from tyranny
I. Will. Revolt.




BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog

Dancing Elephants by Heinrich Kley Dancing Elephants by Heinrich Kley

What nobody tells you as an artist is that every project starts at the beginning. Not just the blank page, the empty stage, but that you have to re-establish your credentials and your quality every time. You can coast on reputation a little, but it doesn’t last long if you don’t deliver.

What nobody tells you is that praise—a standing ovation, a good review, your teacher’s approval—makes you feel good for a day, but one line of internet criticism from a stranger reverberates in your skull forever.

Frankly, I don’t see what all the fuss is about.

(I tried to feel bad when that critic killed himself the next year, but I didn’t.)

What nobody tells your boyfriend is that writing 3000 words in a calm, soothing, supportive environment still leaves you too tired to call home at the end of the day. So does…

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You, father time!


Oh there father of mine,
you father hope, you farther lines.

You’re always moving, on the go,
you never stop, nor ever slow.

You never lie, you sometimes bore,
you’re never gone, there’s always more.

You always spend, you never save,
with stubborn hands away you wave.

You’re always wise and never waste,
you can’t be caught, nor even chased.

You raise a son you’ve never met,
you fill the voids and ease regret.

When troubles near you quick-depart,
but then return to mend the heart.

You dictate all that came before,
and always will, forever more.

Oh there father of mine,
you father of all… You, father time!

Return to Earthling

Dreamy state of weary yearning,

Open-minded spatial learning.



Never ending,

Fragile center eclipses burning.

Gasping life, find the meaning,

Static body,

Transcendent leaving.

Cast away tension, despair and seething.

Brain’s reacting, mind is teething, lose control, gain the feeling.

Free from tangents,

Finite boundaries,

Spoken words,



Cognition trajectory, warping plasticity,

Neural pathways,


Wholly partial conscious journey,

Leaving space-

Return to earthling…

The time i died.

Did I ever tell you the one about when I died? Oh, I didn’t? Well, let me tell you the one about when I died.

‘Lights and sirens’ screamed the paramedic to the driver. The faded sounds of sirens and the gravitational shift in the vehicle that had just abruptly accelerated were the last things I remember, except for a brief second of a memory when a doctor was shining a light into my pupils as he lifted my eyelids.

The next memory was not a light, but an enormous amount of energy that if viewed in our world would look light a light, in a place, that if viewed in our world would look something like the darkness of the deepest caves. Vision doesn’t exist in this place. It’s like the deepest depths of the ocean where light is not allowed, no gravity either, its endless movements of incalculable speeds in any direction, or all at once. No need for ears, because there is no noise to hear, infinite deafness in infinite directions. Taste and touch don’t even enter the equation. Peace exists in this place like it will never exist on earth, nor ever had. Its like the earth it’s self is just an idea of a place compared to this place. Consciousness is the only thing that survives here, and can be turned in to whatever it wants, but doesn’t need to, because this place is the most unconscionable place to be. So if that makes any sense to you at all, then you will know that there are no words that I can write here that will even remotely help you understand. You just have to understand the feeling of what it might possibly feel like to be in that place for a few brief minutes of what we think of as time.

Days, weeks, months and millennia all passed at once. The unquestionable understanding of where I was, was so intimately clear that it was perfect. The body lying on the hospital operating table was no longer mine, I had no need for it, it had served its purpose, but somehow I still carry it around with me. I sometimes wonder why, but then I just smile, and bask in the sunlight of existence, knowing that my chance will come to get back there. It sometimes makes it hard to be here, thinking that I could be there, but somehow I get the feeling that it may not be the same if the decision is made with a swayed mind. The affirming thing about the whole experience is that if a place like that can exist, then other places can also exist, and if there is yin and yang in this place, then there is yin and yang in every place, and that the balance of energy could be upset if pushed from any one direction… but I digress, where was I?

Oh that’s right… Trying to describe the indescribable. Energy just kind of moved about, at differing strengths and speed, somewhat like I imagine electrical currents do so. Calm, powerful energy stifled mine as I slowly became aware of it. (I use the word ‘mine’ there but feel like I need to explain that I do not use it as a sense of ownership, but as a justification of a separation of energy presence.)
Feelings still existed, maybe not all of them but definitely some of them, but maybe all of them, but then again, is there a value of the total sum. I remember a calm so serene that the deepest of sleep states would feel like the roughest of oceans, and a contentment that only masters of Zen Buddhism could imagine.

Then there was utter noise and chaos and artificial light and an empty room with a curtain and beeping, constant beeping. Then I wasn’t sure whether it was all a dream. I spent months trying to comprehend it all, to decipher dreams from reality. Did my conscious state really move inter-dimensionally? Or was it just a dream? What if, at the end of the day, I say it doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter whether it did, or it didn’t, because either way I still had the same experience. If I want to believe it did, then it did, and you can make of it what you will, with what miniscule amount of understanding you can put together from the miniscule amount of information.

And those who say they see a light when they are dying are just telling the truth. A doctor’s torch is offensively overpowering when forcibly shined directly in to the semiconscious pupil.

The secret place


Take me to your place
of catacombs and such,
where the darkness makes the night seem day
and whispers turn to screams

Take me to your place
of fields of linoleum,
where penguin suits and cocktail gowns
make little girls dreams

Take me to your place
of cemented pillar streets,
where the dust blows down the alleyways
and it fills you with despair

Take me to your place
of endless little things,
where you laugh yourself to sleep at night
because no one else is there

Take me to your place
of bolted doors and locks,
where petulance is the game you play
when you cant find the key

Take me to your place
of all the broken mirrors,
where the symbolically cracked reflection
is the only one you see

Subliminal Criminal

beautiful poetry from Maya Tsekenis.

In a dream like state
I get whisked away
Any place is better than this
A brighter corner, on a different day
I’m a sad, sad girl
And we never even kiss
Better times existed
Between us, I insisted
But lately,
You make me plead
Don’t ever come through babe
You never really do babe
The self-styled gangsta,
Nancy Sinatra
Put well when she crooned
Because I’m pretty when I cry
Could that be the reason why?
Considering it’s me you are going to lose 
I was led to believe
I sat atop your pedestal
Your true love babe is reserved for the chemical  
Rest your chemistry and lay the focus back on me
There is still potential…
Don’t be so skeptical…
Your love is elliptical 
I won’t be so cryptic though 
I’m all in for you, babe
I speak the truth, babe
I still love you, babe
It’s in the way…

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