Growing up, our kitchen was a battlefield. The signal to batten down the hatches? Dad’s lunch pail, landing with the force of righteous thunder on the chipped counter. That clanging thermos had more authority than the President. “This is my house,” he’d declare, chest out, sweat still fresh on his brow. “I pay the bills. I’m the boss.�

September 20, 2025By Roy Dawson Earth Angel Master Magical healerSomebody out here isn't who they say they are.They smile in my face, wear my name on their lips like lipstick, but they don’t know who they are. They look in mirrors and see my face. They try to walk like me, talk like me. They’ve borrowed my voice and stitched it onto a throat th

In this world, there are two kinds of people: those who try, and those who mock the ones who do.You gave it your best shot. Maybe you missed. Maybe the crowd laughed. Maybe your hands shook, your voice cracked, your knees buckled—but damn it, you stood up and you tried. That matters.You put yourself out there. And that takes more guts than most p

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