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Musings Stories

Our Musings category focuses on speculation, reflection and deep thought, covering everything from self-contemplation to humorous views on life in general.

This is the place to submit your thoughts on spiritual matters or philosophical subjects and to share your feelings on any topics you’ve ever pondered or wondered about.

Trending Stories

I'm Still Alive

My time should have been up long ago, but I'm still here...I'm Still Alive

The impact was sudden and fierce. But the fear didn’t set in until I saw the vehicle that rear-ended me rolling toward me. “I’m not ready to die,” I prayed out loud. Then I closed my eyes and let faith wash over me. When I opened my eyes again, the silver SUV was inches from my door. Miraculously, it was standing on its side instead of on top of me. I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding and let fat tears roll...

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An Account From The Underground Man

An existential account from a subterreanen man.

I dwell between the heavens and the subterranean earth, pontificating the nature of reality and the conservative laws of the universe. Trenched in thought, a hole has been carved in my heart, hallowing deeper and deeper, removing any empathetic node I may have conjured in the past. Now the hole is spread throughout the body, like a cancer, eroding the pillars of my structured foundation. I lay in the soil of Mother Earth,...

Slender Leaves

A contemplation of the beauty of nature at dawn.

a sweet scent of the willow near slender-leaved Cattails surround the silent pond of the golden dawn– Mourning Doves nostalgically “coo” in the whispering breeze of nature's wishing well.

I try so very hard to understand. Why? Why me? Then why not me? So confused. I must do better. You see, the last three weeks my health has bothered me. Why try to move when it hurts so bad? I have to get better. For me. I don't have you anymore. Only me. I'll take my meds and sleep longer. Maybe when I wake. I'm sorry I am rambling. I'll fight some other time.

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1975 The Summer Of Fun

Sometimes things are not as they seem.

The summer of 1975 provided hot, sunny days and warm, balmy evenings in Detroit. Having a pool in our backyard meant late-night swims so we could go to bed and let the box fan in the window blow air on our wet hair, helping to cool us off enough to sleep. That was my parents’ idea of air conditioning. I never minded the heat. As hot as it was, it was nothing compared to the humid, tropical weather I experienced on my many...

A Ball of Yarn

What something new feels like...

Your world, a neat compact sphere of wool, rolling through this meaningless void. Gathering more and more material, making it denser. Each tightly woven piece of fabric, interlacing and constricting the form. A ball of pure habitual behavior. Years and decades of gravity, hardening the core. Making it almost impossible to penetrate. Then one day, someone comes along and begins to pull on a single strand of cotton. Thus be...

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No End

Always together

The togetherness we feel How your heart meets mine I miss you my darling I long to hold you You to feel me when I cry I accept No matter what happens We are stuck like glue I own your heart As you do mine To complete the other Two halves make a whole Soul mates through out time To have and to hold No distance can separate us No time to end No apologies required It is us You and me As it has always been

Nature of Magic

All Trust is a Dialogue

It smelled like winter and smoked meat outside as a gray curtain of clouds shimmered across the naked night sky to veil the waning moon. “You need to relax and trust the process or it won’t work” “I’m trying to, honest!” “ I didn’t say ‘try’, I said ‘trust’. That means it's a surrender of will, not the enforcing of it.” "Fine." "All things have a sentience and a will. That includes the ability to trust or not. Magic is a...

in remembrance of Quasimodo with the breath of olden's short winds like unseen presence leaves of dead driven like ghosts fleeing bones of men with a little less chin and matted hair but the character of the man is in the treetops

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Narcissus, the Nephilim

a theological headcanon of mixed mythology

“I want to be a demon,” the Nephilim said, “Even if I have to barter my wings for horns and a tail. I want to be a demon.” The priest furrowed his brow as he heard the confession, "Your lineage is half Divine, why would you give that up to be beyond the reach of redemption?” “Because demons have fun. They enjoy their existence. Not all about duty and sacrifice. If that’s my only legacy, then my duty to myself is to sacrif...

“Why are you wearing that, Grandpa?” The little girl pointed to the golden squirrel pinned to my shirt. “I wear it in memory of Matty,” I replied. “I’ll never forget Matty,” she said. “To honor Matty’s memory then,” I told her. Matty had loved squirrels and the color yellow. What was more appropriate than a golden squirrel pin? “Matty was the best partner ever,” she said. “It’s just too quiet around here without Matty.”

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I watch the sparrow, but can no longer hear its song. It seems everyone has something to say, and the noise now lives inside of me. Overwhelmed, I shake my head from side to side, but to no avail. I cannot break free. How I long to hear the sweet birdsong, but there's no more music for me. Nose pressed against the window, I search for color in the concrete jungle. The monotone landscape jails my creativity, so I flee this...

I am honest to most, yet my trust is not easily won. My vulnerability is something that rarely sees the light. Every battle, win or lose, I am a lone soldier. You do not deserve the weight of my burdens. I am not very strong, but I can hold myself up. I am surrounded by love, yet I cannot open up. Tears were a sign of weakness. I wanted to be strong. It takes a lot to truly hurt me. For I brush most things off. I’d rather...

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A flicker of blonde, that I once believed was gold. A heart seemingly full of kindness. Yet now there only seems to be a hole. A pretty face masking the ugliness underneath. I believed time would bring compassion, yet now there is only more hate. * Wrapping your arms around me, suffocating- No. Hugging me. Your hands are cold, your touch affects me no more. You believe this is kindness. Yet, affection does not excuse your...

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With strings of a dulcimer shaking me a willow. with a scent that weeps the silence of it all touching the creek stones with Autumn's tomorrow shaking me a willow holding it close to the windmill of my mind in the eddies of my prose with strings of a dulcimer

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The Blinking Line

The infinite battle of procrastinating.

C1…C2…C3… Cervical vertebrate pulling, bones dislodging. Snap! Like a fat leather boot stopping on a bag of Cheetos. Tongue out like a thirsty dog, panting as my eyes escape my skull. I enter an abysmal tunnel, closing in on me. I can hear bells, ringing and ringing, fading into a stagnate buzz. Peace at last, like a steady ocean swell, my vessel rocking gently across an endless blue horizon. My last thought; So this is w...

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