"How Do I Know There Is a God?" You know what I love about writing? No one can interrupt me. As a kid, I had so much to say but was always cut off—misunderstood. People thought they’d heard enough… but later wished they’d let me finish. I meant well. I always did.In the early mornings in the woods drinking a hot cup of coffee, a man has tim

"They Wanted War — I Gave Them Silence"They wanted it to mean something. The stalking, the subtle aggression, the fake names typed on keyboards in dim-lit rooms—they wanted all of it to mean something to me. Like war. They needed the title: Enemy. They needed the chase, the drama, the grand clash of minds. But the silence I gave them instead? T