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The Places We Call Home
Everlasting memories – those familiar places
we have known
embrace our soul during times when we
feel we are ... ∞ 
A Perfect Day
Summer writes the perfect poem as this day roams—gracefully.
Peacefully the descriptive imagery of euphoric clouds
gaze like lovers in ... ∞ 
Tarringo T. Vaughan always believed he had a love affair with literature. One of the first pictures he saw of himself was of him at maybe the age of three or four year’s old sitting with a book in his hand. But for Tarringo, growing up in the depths of the inner city both in [...]
FWC Cares Project
Do you see me? Do you hear me? Do you understand this feeling suffocating my mind, my heart and my emotional stability every time you spit the hatred of your misunderstanding in the face of my name by calling me…a faggot. I was born this way so how dare you say I’ve chosen to...
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I smiled inside. Their two hands connected perfectly creating a picture of commitment and beauty. Two black women walking proudly down the street not afraid of showcasing their love and I smiled again. I smiled because for that moment no one stopped to stare at them in disgust; no one even gave a...
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Sometimes you just meet that one right person at that one right time in life. It’s that voice you feed in the many crowded spaces of silent that reminds you that you are not alone. And as I sat in my sunlit apartment on an early Saturday afternoon I wondered about myself. I...
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Society had me trippin’;had me wishing, thinking, and believing I was someone other than who I actually was. Often I lay down in the backyard when I was barely a teenager and felt that this was all just a phrase. I couldn’t be one of them. There was no way I could be what...
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There are many fears in the world and everyone is afraid of something. Sometimes we don’t realize our own fears until we are faced with them. A co-worker screams suddenly and intensely every time she spots a spider; this is her arachnophobia: a phobia that many people besides her have, but a phobia that...
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There are times where I’m just an admirer and there are times… when I am the admired but for all that I’ve become I still fear at times those unfamiliar eyes that stare at me. There are people who either e-mail me or comment why write these diaries. They say there is nothing...
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