fiction
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”The Guardian”
What if your shadow wasn’t empty? What if it quietly witnessed every breath, every smile, every heartbreak—and loved your life more than you ever could? The Guardian introduces Robbie, a mysterious companion who believes simply being alive is life’s greatest gift. Continue reading
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”The Invisible Objects”
What if the invisible weight every person carries suddenly became visible? One late-night walk through Los Angeles becomes an unforgettable encounter with grief, hope, and the quiet burdens we all hide. Continue reading
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“Shit was not good today — shit happens sometimes.”
📓 Tuesday, August 5, 2025 – 6:47 p.m. Today, I woke up positively, like I’ve been doing lately. A little tired, since I’ve been having a hard time sleeping at night. Don’t know why. Some might say it’s the past on my mind. Or maybe I’m overthinking the future. Sometimes it feels like something touches me.… Continue reading
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Then He Was Gone 🥷 — A Hood Chronicle
A puff of smoke rises from the grid of South Central L.A. Let it swirl — a signal, a ghost, a memory finding its way back through time. This story takes place in a faraway place — where casino lights never sleep, and the call girls wander the desert nights of Las Vegas, looking for… Continue reading
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“Two Brothers, Hollywood Night”
📓 Monday, October 6, 2025 – 2:51 p.m. Last night, a bit past ten o’clock, my younger brother Victor asked me to drive. He wanted to see Hollywood at night. Hollywood streets were half closed under construction — flashing cones, neon bleeding against cracked sidewalks. I drove while he sat in the passenger seat, watching… Continue reading
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“Sitting in Distress”
📓Friday, October 3, 2025 — 1:59 p.m. I’m sitting in the dark, watching a UFO whistleblower on Jeremy Corbell’s YouTube channel. Outside, my white GMC van waits with its hood up, as my neighbor replaces the brake power booster. He’s the man I call the Cartel Mechanic — a Mexican with pit bull eyes, a… Continue reading
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“Listening”
📓Tuesday, September 23, 2025 — 11:36 a.m. Listening. Listening to Under Pressure by Queen — the line “la, la Saturday night.” Always hits me in a strange felicity way. The other night I was talking to my mom about how impressive Charlie Kirk is—how he started his whole thing 12 years ago with nothing more… Continue reading