Cynus

My best friend and first boyfriend died when we were sixteen, and I couldn't even tell my family we'd been lovers. Same Q

Sure. I'm game to try something new, though I do think we'll get stumped quickly once we get higher. B - Benjamin One of my best friends growing up. I always make fun of him for pretending to be religious when he doesn't act religious.

I try to avoid having no more than zero hotdogs in any given year. The person below me likes ketchup on their scrambled eggs. (A sin in my book!)

Sleep. Same Q

I'm getting there. Just a couple more years. The person below me has a favorite philosopher.

As the sun rises, The world welcomes its touch. Shadows lengthen; To escape their imminent destruction by the light. I wonder at the power of creation. Hope is found at last. As the sun reaches its zenith, The world basks in its light and glory. Shadows dispelled; No longer able to hide from the light. I wonder at the power of creation. It is overwhelming. As the sun sets, The world mourns its passing. Shadows encroach; Prep

Thank you, Steve. And unfortunately my relationship with Jesse, the muse of this poem, was indeed fleeting. I love him still, and he loves me, but our relationship was not meant to be the way it was. Thankfully, as difficult as it was to hold, we remain close friends.

Out of the ashes The burnt remains of the fear, the worry The hesitation Rises my champion, in radiant splendor. Magnificent and regal Enshrouded in chaotic flame Dancing among the clouds of ash and air The rarest bird of all My phoenix.

I've been tired for years. It is unfortunately a side effect of my life. The person below me would like to go out for coffee with friends in the morning.

A very merry existence day to you, Daddy Dave K.

Thank you for the compliments. Most of the Mormon missionaries are just young men trying to do some good in the world the best way they know how. I've liked talking to a significant number of Mormon missionaries, especially ones I served with, but the religion part didn't work too well for me, either.

Likely Indian, though I eat food from everywhere. Same Q

Talk about the hardest question I've had so far! The best meal I've ever had was made by Mongolian workers in South Korea whom I visited with on occasion. It was made with some sort of pasta(I've never had its like since) which tasted as if it were wheat based, but it was almost like pie crust, although a bit softer, slightly sweet, and less flaky. It was then stir-fried with small chunks of tender beef, peppers and tomatoes. The flavors melted together, each complimentary to each other rather than any one overpowering the others, and each bite melted on your mouth and tantalized your tongue in ways which left you craving more. But then, when you've finished what was in your bowl you wanted more, but your stomach told you that you didn't need it. It wasn't heavy, but it was filling. It satisfied the stomach in ways you'd never imagine. Of course, I had a second bowl anyway. My favorite meal is one constructed by love and loyalty, by one who knows the craft, the way the spices accent rather than take away, and who knows the way ingredients meld together to perform feats of culinary wizardry every time they step into the kitchen. What is your favorite cuisine?

I do everything like hell. I'm the devil. The person below me prefers their coffee black.

Close enough. Tiramisu, actually. The person below me likes blueberry pie with ice cream.

Scene: Charlie and her father return to their home. The Father, Harry, calls for a family meeting to ask about last night. Starting Letter: F Current Letter: B "Before anyone else embarrasses themselves, I just want to say that you know we love both of you, right?" Harry asked, looking between his two eldest children.

horse

Most of it. I hope to return to it someday. The person below me feels free to be themselves.

I can't help but view this as a Taoist, and so I apologize if I let my spirituality bleed too much onto the page. I see this profound balance here of two conflicting perspectives. On one side, you have this need to escape how you feel in the moment, yet then you describe this very deep feeling in the words, "Do you see me? I am your child, we are everyone's". It makes me wonder if the drugs brought you to such a thought, or if this was something you thought when the drugs wore off. It's amazing how people can distance themselves so easily from the suffering of others. I saw a qupte earlier today that spoke of how humanity has forgotten that we are all connected; that we are all family, and yet fight over such petty things as arbitrary lines on a map, or whose God created whom... As I read your poem I am reminded once again of the need to see those I interact with as human, not the uniform, the name tag, the lack thereof... All people deserve our respect and love, and for it to be given freely. Perhaps that wasn't what your poem meant to you. I hardly ever know how close I am to the mark on what was intended, but I believe if a poem speaks to the soul of the poet, it will speak to the soul of those who receive it. Thank you for the lesson.

I tried to do my research when I was writing The Navigator. I read story after story of homeless youth, especially homeless LGBT youth so I could try and play Silas Drake's personality properly. It's amazing how, when life seems to do its best at reducing you to nothing, you find this sense of pride in your trials. I'm particularly drawn to those last three lines: "Showed me how a rent boy behaved I honed those skills. I am only seventeen. But I am a master." When life puts you in such a position, you have to become stronger than you ever were before. I appreciate what you were forced to go through, Tim, and that you became a master at how to survive. I'm glad you're free of the life, and I'm sure the strength to endure has stayed with you.

Twilight, either morning or evening twilight. (Are you frickin' kidding me that the mongoose missed the snake question? UNBELIEVABLE) Same Q

I'm glad you liked the battle, even if it was incredibly short. My editor at the time warned me about that, saying it needed to be extended a lot further. I was pushing the deadline though, and I knew if I waited I wouldn't make it. I sure wish I would have listened to him. Good to know someone caught on to Lucifel before she acted. She's a wily one. Thank you for all of your reviews.

There's certainly a lot of maturing for both of them to do, I think. Thank you for the review.

And the storm came.

Thank you. I'm happy to hear it.