I sneak food into movie theaters.

Hard candy.


Donuts not excluded, actually, one quarter dozen thus far.

Real deal smuggling operations on the rise.

Bottles of water in backpockets.


Some of you may unsubscribe to my blog because of this new storyline.

Because I’ve raised my 13-year-old son in this silly business.

Last Friday afternoon, he portrayed a mule prior to watching the new Avengers movie.

I had to sell him on importing donuts.

He wanted to buy and bootleg cake bites.

We succeeded in the former.

Two Long Johns securely consumed after trailers.

One filled with lemon.

The other with Bavarian cream.

I bought two 3D tix, one large popcorn, and a large bottle of water.

I told myself the theater and I conducted a fair transaction.

I tell myself a lot of things.

“I’m not good enough.”

“I’m good enough.”

“I shouldn’t traffic sweets.”

Maybe natural snacks can justify this silly business? I’ll let you know if the dried mango goes undetected.

Throughout the Marvel flick, a man feasted upon soda and popcorn at my side.

He licked his fingers upon completion.

The sight, the sound, the suck, oh yuck.

I shall not tell you much about the fruit snacks.


I ate eight.

The rest were swallowed by the aforementioned teenager due to my lack of oversight.

It’s okay.

He was a good mule.

Oh yeah, I also bought fruit snacks.

Hmm, the wife will now discover this new plot twist.

“Remember, the braces prevent him from partaking in popcorn,” I choose to say.

Prior to exiting my vehicle and entering the theater, my son and I strategically positioned the donuts inside his jacket’s inner pocket.

No worries.

Because minimal protrusion and warm weather will not deter a good mule.

I have a zip line in my backyard.

It’s a trip.

Who has a zip line in their backyard?

Who has been on a zip line?

I’ve been on one in Maui. The setting was clean green as I zipped the line.

And now I do the same in my backyard.

It would not be there if not for my wife.

At least, that’s what I believe.

There may be multiverses.

I have often pondered such things.

There may be one universe.

But I believe it’s different than what we’ve been told.

Many laugh at me for believing some things.

Because, “How?”

“Why?” they say.

I have also pondered such things.

Like, “How and why have I done some things?”

Maybe I like the rush of sugar cane capers?

Maybe I don’t care about money?

Maybe I’m teaching my son wicked ways?

Forget the undercover donuts.

Remember the innerverse.

I often ponder if you read these words and resonate?

I am attempting to give you myself in these moments of mental expressions.

This is the natural habitat within one of my mind’s many dimensions.

While creating here, I could make the page a black backdrop and opt for white text.

“The characters appear like stars in space,” I say.

My unpopular thoughts have ended friendships.

Some humans got really mad at me.




Connections suspended.

Am I supposed to keep quiet when one feels compelled?

I have often tried.

I cannot.

Is this enough for you?

Is there another way to offer myself?

This is a pure stream of consciousness emitting through my fingers pressing onto the backlit wireless keyboard as I rest at my standing desk.

How can you see what I see?

It starts with a presentation of my(true)self.

This is my attempt.

Am I doing okay?

Don’t pat me on the head.

Email me a new thread.


Tell me who you are.

This is what unraveling my mind onto the screen looks like.

It’s kind of embarrassing.

I have reread my blog posts.

I enjoy them.

I like myself.

You should try it.

Liking yourself.

It’s fun.

I believe it’s how this experience was always supposed to be.

But someone smuggled a disastrous thought into your mind.

And they hid it there.

So you often forget to like yourself.

And others.

It’s okay.

I do the same thing.

I hate it.

But that’s why I like to connect.

We can remind each other of what we must remember.

We are likable and liked.

We like others.

What a simple game to play that many sit out.

Will you join me?

I keep asking in different posts.

Because I must insure more are set for liftoff.

We’re going sooner and later.

You have to choose.

Will you come?

It’s a pretty cool space.

In this place, you can smile as much as you want.

Once there, you can let yourself be your(true)self.

We welcome new truths and possibilities.

We agree to create in helpful and unique ways.

I often visit this domain.

I often forget to remain.

I think we can stay as long as we remember.

Yes, let’s remember.

But you must choose.


I am a kid.

After successfully accomplishing Mission: Long Johnable, I revisited the sweet shop twice more in the next 20 hours.

Because wife and daughter were displeased when my only begotten son and I returned to the sweet shop to get the cake bites that almost got away.

We didn’t ask them if they wanted anything.


During the inquiry, I told them that I did think of them, but I did not make contact because I was scared I’d get in trouble for getting more sweets.

This thought was unpopular.

Yes, I am full of poorly dreamed sweet schemes.

This second mishap occurred after wife, son, and I shared cinnamon rolls at the farmer’s market on Saturday morning.

I may be addicted to sweets.

Hmm, the previous sentence may be the first step toward recovery.

Am I ready to give up such things?

The Mission never ends.

I had to reverse the crime to undo the time.

Because Saturday afternoon after my lawn mower key vanished from this realm, I passed the sweet shop in route to the hardware store. Yes, I visited the sweet shop for the third time in 25 hours.

I righted a wrong.

I bought a sprinkled cookie, maple cake donut, and sliced blueberry fritter.

I told myself the sweet shop and I conducted a fair transaction.

I tell myself a lot of things.

“I’m not good enough.”

“I’m good enough.”

“I shouldn’t parade unpopular thoughts.”

Maybe nothing justifies my silly business.

I’ll let you know if I choose to remember.