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Storm Damage






Storm Damage




Here I was again, no power and no booze simply the page and an empty night ahead of me.


People will never understand getting through the storm was simply part of the equation.

Then there was all the bullshit that went along with it.


The cleanup I seldom troubled myself with.

I barely cut my grass let alone concern myself with fallen branches and pine needles.


The only thing about this outage I enjoyed was the silence when all the halfwits turned off there generators and allowed the music of the crickets to play.

There was peace in nature that will never be matched by the endless ramblings of people in love with the sound of their own voices.


True writers get it, but sadly they are among a dying breed.

As art was being swallowed up by social media attention seeking whores and people had lost all common sense.


Taking great issue with anything that wasn't mundane.

The civil rights movement that was championed by great men and women had turned into a media circus loving lunacy better known as the Me Too movement.


Who thought their pissing and moaning over dirty jokes and men acting just like their gender was a threat.

So they attempted to neuter everything.


These same people never spoke of a war that seemingly would never end.

Or the vast amounts of homeless dying in the streets.


They were too busy feeding their egos and getting on talk shows to argue to care about anyone but themselves.


I listened to the peace of a dark empty night outside my window.


I didnt have the mindless chatter of some newscaster speaking to me about some buffoon’s newest idiotic statement made in front of millons, or to watch the newest footage of children being butchred by some spoiled lunatic at a local school.


And as I was one with the page, and at peace with the silence the lights came back on.


I simply got up from my desk and turned them back off.


I rather be in the dark and happy than brainwashed by the bullshit of others.



Silence is golden so they say.





John Patrick Robbins




John Patrick Robbins is the Editor of The Rye Whiskey Review, Under The Bleachers and Drinkers Only.


He is the author of Once Upon A Nervous Breakdown from Soma Publishing.


His work has been published here at Ariel Chart, As It Ought To Be Magazine, The San Pedro River Review, Punk Noir Magazine, Blognostics, The Mojave River Review, Medusas Kitchen, The Rusty Truck.


He is also the co-host of Guest Haus with Mark Antony Rossi on the Strength To Be Human Podcast.


His work is always unfiltered. 


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2 Comments

  1. My compliments for sharing this storm in all its inglorious manifestations. From physical to metaphorical the shock waves will reach the reader. And maybe wake the sleeping guardian buried in our busy lives.

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  2. The storm that is society when it comes to morality and human decency was captured well in this write. Blunt and well thought out. Expertly put to the pen.

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