Diary of a Charlatan

I offer no apoligies for what you see, read or hear on this blog.

I do not pretend myself a poet or storyteller, for it is not I who writes these words. I am merely but a vessel. In the deepest despair and only in the sweet embrace of vice, does The Charlatan dare appear. Only then does he ever put his pen to paper, ever more eloquently than I ever could, to expunge our demons through his prose.
Feb 02
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The bombs fell swiftly. There was no time to react. We just never saw this coming…

I hear Uptown got the worst of it. There were no “lucky” ones there. I was driving about 10 miles from the main impact zone when it hit. All I remember was a wave of red coming towards me. Next thing I know my car is on it’s side and I was waking up to the sunset with a nasty gash on my head. I can’t tell for certain how long i was out for. It was the last real sunset I would ever see…

The rain would come soon. There was plenty of fire that would need it. What was once a beautiful city has now become a wasteland. What was once a beautiful love …. well, has become this story of a shattered heart.

Now there is no color here. Even my shadow has disapeared. All that is left is a shell of the man I used to be….

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