Renegotiating Kaylin - The Decks and the Road Book 3 Introduction Kaylin - I’ve lived in a pot.   A flower pot.   Life has granted me a larger pot each time I seemed to outgrow the one I was living in.   A few times it appeared that the pot was shrinking, then all of a sudden… Boom!   A bigger pot.   Still I feel as though I belong in a field with just the breeze for shelter.   I’ve been dancing around with my mother’s journals since she passed away, and they’ve made me quiet.   But I think I’m ready to speak.   After all they’re not just her secrets; they’re family secrets and we’ve all paid a high price for them.   The first of the secrets to be released into the air will be the one that has carried the most weight.   It’s interesting... it carries so much weight and yet it’s as if he’d never been more than the size and width of a butterfly.   At times I think of my odds; a father in prison and a dead mother, and I agree...

Dedication Welcome to Erased. This book is forever dedicated to those whose light presents for them more obstacles than opportunities. It is also dedicated to The Freedom of Violence, and to those who reaches deep within to find alternatives to violence and anarchy. I offer this writing as a voice to The Dreamers who when faced with homelessness, disassociation, and excommunication find a way to pull not only themselves up but all who are loyal to truth and universal love. Lastly, I use this project to commend and salute Sole Proprietorship, Private Enterprise, and Free Enterprise. Let the Children Rise! Erased "The Introduction" (narrated by Sam) ...Three and a half years earlier     Six years ago I sold my inheritance.  It was an easy decision to make after I woke up from a dreadful dream where my hands were drenched in blood.  I'd walked around with the thought for days before I finally showed up at my father's door.  I could tell he ...

The Decks and the Road Book 1- Freeborn Introduction “You have not seen your life, until you’ve seen a circle.” In life we take the hands we are dealt, and hit the road.  Sometimes the deck makes us a slave, and other times, the road wears us down.  Then, every now and again we get a glimpse of the Freeborn ; the beauty that is born at the round-about.  It’s a fragile beauty; a beauty that can be easily seen but not understood.  It’s the beauty you hope will be with you forever.  But, too bad; it was born free.  It comes, it harnesses the wind, it creates a line in the sky, and then, it’s gone.  The freeborn is not for the aspirational.  It’s useless to aspire to.  It’s not up to us who breathe, but it’s decided by the one who gives breath.  The generations could not purge itself to exist this way; nor could traditions.  It’s the resting of a hand—the touch of destiny; and boy is it sure to be victimized.  Yet, nev...