This publication has been a long time in the works. The agony and despair that have been poured into this work of fiction based on elements of fact are but a smoke screen that veils the inferno that hides behind disdained eyes. The hate I have expressed is a shadow of the shame that has been dumped over my existence as a psycho path would dump a bucket of muratic acid over a newborn babies head of a stranger he just met in the elevator watching it gasp in a beautiful symphony of screams and death rattles that can be heard for blocks.
I'm certain that you will get off on this extremely personal and hostile chronicle of betrayal, truth, short stories, and my personal religious observations of a belief system that has hid its banner of perversity, death, and allegiance to a god despised. We carry this shame like a corpse without a coffin down a dead end street of revenge and blasphemy. We are the dead that stare at the living with both eyebrows raised. We are the damned but we're open to suggestions.