Jefferey A Ayers
Bio
I am an aspiring writer who was born and raised in the Pacific Northwest. I joined vocal out of desire, and curiosity. This will be the first time I have put my writing out in the public, and I look forward to hearing what you all think.
Stories (13/0)
A Broken System
We are currently living in a world where knowledge is available to all. If you have a question, you can hop online or reach for a book and find answers. If it is a question of science or mathematics, there are calculations or studies that have been done or are being done, and you can be brought up to speed just by having the drive to seek this knowledge. If it is a question of faith, interpretation, or philosophy – you can find the works of people who have spent their lives researching and debating. Resources like Google, Bing, Webster’s, and The Philosophical Review are only a mouse click or a library card away. There are even resources like People magazine, Sports Illustrated, and Teen magazine for personal interests. One has but to ask and the knowledge he seeks will be his. I came across a cold, hard realization today, though: there are people out there who are being robbed of their ability to seek out the information that they desire.
By Jefferey A Ayers6 months ago in Humans
Edge of Sanity
I get lost so easily in those dark-chocolate almond-shaped eyes. It is as if she can stare into your soul and see your private thoughts and desires, and she loves to use them to fuck your fragile little mind. Her beauty is an adventure to a far-away place.
By Jefferey A Ayers7 months ago in Poets
7Years of Wisdom
Life… It is an odd experience. And as each individual stumbles their way down their own path, our journeys shape who we are and how we view the world around us. More often than not, we stumble or lose ourselves in the storms that attempt to overwhelm us, and in these moments, we tend to focus more on who is kicking us when we are down than who is by your side with a hand out, ready to chase off the clouds. These last few weeks have been a storm for me, and while I have been hiding it well, I had forgotten how to breathe. Today, a little girl in a Taco Bell booth reminded me how to smile; she chased away my clouds.
By Jefferey A Ayers7 months ago in Humans
The Immortal King
I imagine the Gods weeping every time the rain falls. There are no wails of despair, only silent tears that blanket the landscape, nourishing the beauty of the world around us while depriving us of the warmth that comes with the sun. I feel as if here, in Portland, it’s always raining, as if the gods are as sad as the poor souls trapped in this decaying shit hole. Slumped shoulders of wet pedestrians accompany the overcast skies and water-logged shoes that are the norm for most of the year. Why would I expect anything else on the one day that mattered? We have two seasons here: the hot one which comes with a permanent coating of sweat and a constant sun glare, and the wet one which accounts for the other nine months of the year. You would think that growing up here would cause a person to become accustomed to this shit, or that we would at least learn to carry an umbrella and invest in some boots, but the vast majority of us, including yours truly, never catch on.
By Jefferey A Ayers7 months ago in Fiction
Cursed
A movie played in the background, and we lay there whispering a million sweet nothings with no words passing between us. That was when I felt her soft touch as she ran the tip of her nose across my cheek. I turned to look at her and the world around us became irrelevant. All that mattered was right there in front of me. She had that “kiss me” look in her eyes, and for a brief moment, I forgot how to respond.
By Jefferey A Ayers7 months ago in Horror
A Dream
I had a dream last night. I dreamt that I entered a room: my room, I believe. I walked into it with a sense of certainty and familiarity, knew where everything was, where everything was supposed to be. I could feel the comfort you get in a space that belongs to you and you alone. I set the keys that I do not own on a desk that I have not seen in my waking hours, felt my toes brush against an unfamiliar carpet, and took steps into a strange space that knew as if I had lived there long enough to memorize every step; however, there was one thing out of place. There was a woman in my bed, a woman whom I had known, but no longer belonged there, one who rested at ease as if this space in my own mind was hers, and I was just the visitor.
By Jefferey A Ayers7 months ago in Poets
