The death of reality

When did “normal” people become virtual?

“Childhood Dreams”

I don’t usually like to jump on bandwagons, but this is important.

A Sunday sermon

My dear friend Paul:

I miss you. Aside from what you meant to your family and friends, aside from our friendship, the selfish good friend in me sometimes wishes your leaving hadn’t left me without anyone to talk with on Sundays. Nobody seems to understand what I go through, week in and week out, all culminating and releasing on Sunday afternoon. Nobody is interested in my worship, nor the anguish it brings me, each and every week. Nobody understands the teasing, the name-calling, the civil strife between common components, the pain. And it’s all your fault.

Paul Miller

On April 26, 2005, one of my life-long friends, Paul R. Miller, died in his sleep. He was 35 years old.