Inner-City: Into The Streets

August 9th, 2023 by No comments »
Inner-City: Into The Streets

Another long day. Another sleepless night.
City blocks, laundry mats late at night.
Into the streets, plenty of needy, graffiti.
Alley cats, homeless, inhumanity. A lone soul wanders.
A bus just after morning sunlight.
The hustle and bustle of a busy city street.
Hustlers, street performers, crowds gather. Hats filled with quarters.
Vacant buildings, time passed them by.
Nightlife, Steam, Heat, Foxy Boxing, Jai Alai, People Watching.

 
  Written by George Farina, www.GeorgeFarina.net

 
 

Written by George Farina: GeorgeFarina.net

Words I Write To Say What’s Right

August 9th, 2023 by No comments »
Words I Write To Say What’s Right

These words I write without fright, to say what’s right.
We’ve all been told many lies.
Old age. Lack of health, lack of wealth.
To many pretend. Things aren’t always bien.
Not everyone has real friends.
Lets bury most of our funds.
Tomorrow the world could come to an end.
There’s a reason why so many are numb.
Many don’t bend. Compassion ain’t within them.
Some things don’t mend.
Lies, deceit. They ain’t right.
Chastised, judged, used, much spite.

 
  Written by George Farina, www.GeorgeFarina.net

 
 

Written by George Farina: GeorgeFarina.net

Questions, Without The Answers: 2023

August 9th, 2023 by No comments »

* How long has your longest friendship lasted, where you speak with your friend at least once a month?

* What things throughout your life have you been most disappointed with?
* What things throughout your live have you been happiest with?

* Have you ever caught someone telling a lie? Did you know they were telling a lie right away or find out sometime later?
* Have you ever told a lie? Why?

* What’s your personal definition of a home?

* What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done to another person?
* What’s the best thing you’ve ever done to another person?

* What’s the worst thing another person has ever done to you?
* What’s the best thing another person has ever done to you?

Light Throughout The Night Posted Free As Blog Posts At GeorgeFarina.Net In 2023

January 7th, 2023 by No comments »
 

Light Throughout The Night Posted As Blog Posts At GeorgeFarina.Net

 
 

Beginning January 2, 2023, I plan to post a chapter of Light Throughout The Night every week at GeorgeFarina.Net until the whole book is posted as blog posts (As of today 2023-01-07, the first two chapters are posted).

The version I’m posting is the same as the newest eBook version.

At the end of each week, I’m going to remove the previous post/chapter from the GeorgeFarina.Net blog. However, the post/chapter will still show within GeorgeFarina.net via the following webpage:


https://www.GeorgeFarina.Net/Blog/LightThroughoutTheNightBookBlogPosts.php


The whole book will show as blog posts via the above URL once posting is completed.

A Table of Contents is posted at the beginning.


Light Throughout The Night is a complete story with many twists and turns. The only way to feel the essence of the story is to read it from beginning to end. If you begin reading the book, I encourage you to read all the chapters.

Even though I’m posting the book as blog posts, both the paperback and eBook are still available for sale. As a result, please don’t post the book elsewhere.

If you like the book and want to purchase either a paperback or eBook version to have as your own, please visit the Light Throughout The Night store webpage.

I don’t have any plans to take down the book at a later date. However, I haven’t sold as many copies as I would have liked. I’m not great at marketing. If a representative of an incorporated publishing company, a literary agent, or anyone else who reads the books via the blog posts, likes what they see and contacts me in regards to publishing, chances are I’ll take down the blog posts in favor of professional publication.

 

For those who aren’t familiar with Light Throughout The Night, below is a brief description:


Light Throughout The Night is fiction, primarily a drama, specifically, a sports action drama. Even though the story is fiction, the book displays a sense of realness.


Light Throughout The Night is somewhat futuristic, partly educational, with a taste of sexiness. The main character is named Glow. She’s named after the 1980’s television show, G.L.O.W. Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling.


Regardless of the genre, Light Throughout The Night details Glow’s life story. During the early years of Glow’s life, the deck was stacked against her. Because of her situation, she didn’t have an opportunity to live a decent life. As Glow grew older, she didn’t find her niche in society. Her past kept her from finding happiness.


Light Throughout The Night takes readers from Glow’s birth, through to her adulthood. Her story is passionate, dramatic, and adventurous, while touching upon more serious issues such as child abuse, homelessness and lack of equality.


Within the pages of Light Throughout The Night, Glow displays resilience as she tries to find happiness, peace and peace within herself.


To learn more about Light Throughout The Night, please visit the About Light Throughout The Night Webpage.

Christmas 2022

December 1st, 2022 by No comments »
Christmas 2022

Christmas, Christmas Lights, Sleighs, Snow
Chimineas, Living Room Fire Places, Rain Dear, Decorations
Christmas Trees, Ornaments, Presents, Trains, Natavity Sets
Mangers, Jesus, Angels, Stars, Santa Claus, Mrs. Claus
Elves, The North Pole, Frosty The Snow Man, Rudolf
The Grinch, Ebenezer Scrooge, Christmas Past, Present And Future
Shopping, Christmas Lists, Giving, Receiving, Christmas Cards
The Charlie Brown Christmas Tree
Christmas The Grinch Thought, Doesn’t Come From A Store
Icicles, Wreaths, Snowballs, Snowball Fights, Snow Angels
Kids Playing Outside, With New Toys Early In The Morning
The Look Of Joy (From Those Giving) As Gifts Are Given
The Look Of Excitement As Gifts Are Unwrapped
Christmas Music, Silent Night, Little Drummer Boy, Jingle Bells
The 12 Days Of Christmas, Christmas Caroling, Singing
Christmas Stockings, Stocking Stuffers, Christmas Eve Mass
Christmas Eve, Waking Up Early Christmas Morning

 
  Written by George Farina, www.GeorgeFarina.net

 
 

“Christmas The Grinch Thought, Doesn’t Come From A Store” is from the Dr. Seuss book How the Grinch Stole Christmas!

Written by George Farina

Thanksgiving 2022

November 5th, 2022 by No comments »
Thanksgiving 2022

Indians, Pilgrims, Peace, Feasts
Thanksgiving Day Parades, Creative Floats
Thanksgiving Day Speeches, What Are You Thankful For?
Turkey, Turkey Legs, Yams, Stuffing, Corn
Cranberry Sauce, Baked Potatoes, Gravy, Eggnog
Lounging Thursday Evening, With A Full Belly
Great Deals, Shopping, Crowded Malls
The Weekend After Thanksgiving, Cold Leftovers
Christmas Music Plays, Christmas Trees Are Decorated
Christmas Lights Brighten The Night

 
  Written by George Farina: GeorgeFarina.net
 
 
 

Serenity

October 14th, 2022 by No comments »
Serenity: A non-fiction story about the sense of serenity I experience from bike riding.

Serenity

I’ve always enjoyed riding bikes. Though, not until I reached my mid 20’s, purchased a flat bar mountain bike and moved to the city did I become an avid cyclist, did I really look forward to each time I went riding. Much of my life I didn’t have a vehicle. Without a vehicle, I rode almost every day. The more I rode, the more I enjoyed riding.

I rode to the supermarket every couple days. When I finished shopping, I hung some food items from the handle bars, other items I carried in a small duffle bag.

I usually tried to purchase as much food as I could carry. The ride home was very challenging. The more food I purchased, the more challenging the ride, especially if I purchased heavier items like milk or canned foods. Yet, the ride was always a thrill. At the time, I liked challenging myself. I liked the challenge of maneuvering over curbs and through sidewalks while trying to balance a bike overflowing with food items.

I rode to and from work five days a week, about two miles each way. To get to work I had to ride over a couple somewhat steep overpasses.

They were my favorite part of the ride. I began amping myself up to go over the first overpass fifty yards in advance, gradually picking up speed as I approached, waiting until just the right time before pedaling with all my strength, as fast as I could peddle up the overpass.

If my timing was good, my strength and speed peaked just as the overpass peaked. Then, I coasted down the other side.

The second overpass was another fifty yards away, however, required more maneuvering, more power. I didn’t have as much room to pick up speed.

When I arrived at work, I felt great. The adrenalin gained from the ride stayed with me throughout the whole day.

Many locals were also into riding. Some local cyclist hosted monthly group rides. The group rides took riders who attended through different parts of the city. Sometimes those who hosted the rides explained the historical significance of the area we rode through during or before the ride.

When I first arrived in the city. The group rides were somewhat small, maybe thirty or forty people attended each ride. The rides were somewhat slow paced. Pulling up next to another to chat for a few while riding, gave those who were new to the city, a good way to get to know others within the city.

As riding became more popular, some of the group rides grew from thirty to forty riders to many thousands. The larger group rides became known as Critical Mass bike rides, bike rides designed to help others become aware of the environment and benefits of biking.

During Critical Mass rides, many of the streets within the bike route are closed. Large gatherings are held before and after the rides. Participating in monthly Critical Mass bike rides are exciting events.

The city where I moved to was very urban. I’m very urban. The scenery was magnificent. Many times I rode just to view the scenery. Riding through and around downtown was one of my favorite places to ride.

The buildings, homes, condo’s and apartments throughout the downtown area possess a lot of character. A few of the buildings were very old, vintage looking. Others were new, with a modern look.

Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. I’ve always enjoyed looking at Christmas lights. Cities and towns usually have many small neighborhoods with light traffic, neighborhoods where many residents decorate their homes with magnificent displays of Christmas lights.

The scenery while riding always feels surreal, like I’m getting a better view, a view where I see the scenery from different angles, see more of the scenery for a longer period of time.

Slowing while riding over a sidewalk or through a street with slow moving traffic to take a longer look at something wonderful, wonderful scenery, skyscrapers, vintage buildings, unique looking apartment complexes, cool homes, Christmas lights, the bay, the Ocean, beaches, fields, creaks, rivers, or anything else a person enjoys viewing is much easier to do while riding than while driving.

Even without the magnificent scenery, I enjoy riding just as much. I enjoy everything about riding, standing on the pedals, sitting, coasting down hills, pedaling as fast as I could possibly pedal up hills, riding over a flat, only pedaling once I a while.

Riding gives me a sense of serenity, serenity unmatched by just about anything else I’ve ever experienced. If my body permitted, I could ride the same streets day after day, every day, all day and enjoy riding just as much as ever.

 
 

Serenity, Written By George Farina: GeorgeFarina.net

Where The Water Gel’s With The Sand

September 14th, 2022 by No comments »

A lady in her late 20’s walks alone in the Ocean where the water gels with the sand. She’s wearing a summer dress. Her dirty blond hair is long, wavy and moist. A leather shoulder strap purse hangs from her shoulder, moving elegantly with her hips as she walks.

Her hair and dress blow lightly in the warm Ocean breeze. Water flows slowly over her feet. An orange and yellow sky surrounds the sun as it sets deep into the Ocean.

As day turns to dusk, she exits the Ocean, taking a seat upon her laid out towel, looking deep into the sky. Soon thereafter, laying her head to sleep.

The night rapidly grew cold. She curls up to keep warm, tightly pressing her legs against her midsection and breast, pulling her towel over her body, tucking her arms between her thighs.

The next morning the sun begins to warm the cold Ocean air. Shivering, she slowly sits up, running her feet through the dry sand as she warms. A lighter blue sky hovers over the much darker ocean. The waves are larger than the previous night. The sounds are crisper, louder. The air is windier.

Alone, with desperation in her voice, she sings, vocals scream from within. Lyrics filled with despair. Her voice filled with beauty, echoing, mile after mile, harmonious, desperate tones flow from deep within her lungs.

 
 

Written by George Farina: GeorgeFarina.net

Inner City Bus Ride

September 14th, 2022 by No comments »

The thick dark plexiglass windows are riddled with scratches. The bus slows. The bus driver pulls a lever. The double doors swing open just as the bus stops.

A young woman near the front of the bus looks out the window, watching passengers board. An older lady with plenty of shopping bags tries to get a seat by the door. A younger man stands, allowing her to sit. A bright smile lights up her face. She thanks him while taking a seat.

The bus driver pulls the lever, closing the doors. The large diesel engine in the rear revs loudly as the bus slowly exits the bus stop, merging into the street.

The bus is packed. A lady standing in the aisle holds the upper railing, hovering over a youngish man who looks as if he’s her same age. She’s in her lower 30’s. Though, could pass for her mid to late 20’s. She probably lives an interesting life. Perhaps she’s on her way to live up the nightlife.

Her scents are soothing. Her style’s appealing. Her t-shirt lifts a couple inches above her lower belly, showing her ever so slightly chubby tummy, tightening over her decent sized, nicely shaped breasts, as she stretches to hold the railing above.

Her arms are soft. Her muscles are soft as well, smallish, elegantly shaped, showing every once in a while when she strengthens her grip as the bus turns.

Her hair is dark, very thick, wavy, almost curly, though, not quite, moist looking, as if she just got out of the shower, flowing a few inches past her shoulders in the back, surrounding her face in the front.

Her face is alluring, cuteish, somewhat pudgy, with a short round chin. Her nose is smallish. Her lips are pouty. Her eyes are a deep hazel, mesmerizing. She’s calm.

Her hip hugger low waist jeans are stylish, sexy, flowing beautifully downward from her waist, over her defined hips and thighs, her smallish, yet shapely calves, to her low top Adidas sneakers.

The man below her tried giving her a warm smile. A smile in return was denied. He probably knew better. He had to try.

The bus driver announces the name of the next stop over the loudspeaker.

The bus slows. The doors swing open. A woman boards the bus, acknowledging the bus driver as she boards, thinking to herself, “Bus drivers are with the people every day, they’re people’s people.” He’s pre occupied, chatting with a lady who’s sitting in the front seat.

A young man in his mid-20’s was next inline. After paying, he quickly scans the seats, thinking, “Maybe, just maybe, I’ll see a decent looking chick my age sitting by herself.”

No luck. Most seats are filled. Disappointed, he maneuvers to the back of the bus where he snags one of the few empty seats.

The bus driver briefly stops his conversation to speak the name of the next stop over the loudspeaker.

At the next stop, a middle aged lady boards. She works her way towards the back exit, using the upper railing to help keep her balance, carefully zigging in and out and around those standing in the aisle.

A few stops later, she reaches over a couple passengers to pull the wire, requesting a stop.

“Ding, ding.”

The bus driver slows the bus, guiding it to the side of the street into the bus stop. The back doors open. The lady exiting turns her head as she exits, looking towards the bus driver, smiling, thanking him for the ride, just before stepping down to the sidewalk.

She was on her way home from work. Her husband finished work a few hours earlier. He was waiting at the bus stop. The two kiss quickly before making their way home.

An older man and woman sit next to each other. The older man starts talking, in a way, talking to the woman next to him, in a way talking to himself, though, mostly just talking.

“I grew very old, very fast. I grew very slow. People shouldn’t disregard the length of life during their younger years. My body and health deteriorated.

The city was different when I was younger. A Baseball stadium use to occupy the land where the condo complex sits on the other side of the street. Locals were proud of the stadium, passionate, loyal fans of their team.

A small Baseball card shop was located a few blocks away. I use to ride my bike to the shop every Saturday when I got my allowance. I had a card for every player on the team. Every time I purchased a card, the owner gave me a bunch of commons for free. I had a shoebox filled with Baseball cards.

I was as proud of the city and stadium as anyone else. Riding my bike through the streets was one of my favorite past times. The streets were much different than, very narrow, traffic moved much slower, riding was much safer, much more enjoyable.

I use to have a lot of energy. I rode over the sidewalk, hopping curbs, cutting through alleys, cruising through parks. I rode everywhere I could possibly ride. I explored and saw as much as I could possible explore and see.

Much like myself, the stadium grew old, wasn’t maintained, deteriorated. Eventually, the stadium was demolished.

The Baseball card shop closed a few months later. Many other new, very large complexes were built. The condos within the complexes were mostly purchased by investors and foreigners.

Many of the investors weren’t local. The money they earned through rent from locals went to other destinations.

Foreigners mostly used their condos as vacation destinations, leaving many empty condos throughout the city during the offseason, only spending money within the city a few months a year while vacationing.

New jobs weren’t created. The poor, got poorer.

Many of the friends I kept weren’t wealthy. Most moved elsewhere. I lost a lot of friends.

I stayed, paying much more for rent, while earning the same wages. The quality of my life digressed.

Most of the complexes were gated, blocking the alleys previously in their place. Streets were widened.

Many of the places I frequented, closed. Many parks shrunk. The city I live in now is very different from the city I grew up in.”

A few minutes later the man stopped talking. The woman next to him smiled and frowned to herself, thinking about the words he spoke.

Soon thereafter, the bus slows. The driver announces the last stop. The doors fling open. The lady standing in the aisle, holding the upper railing, releases her grip from the railing, and from the man sitting below her, thanking the bus driver for the ride as she exits.

The other passengers exit as well, as does the bus driver, shutting down the diesel engine just before exiting, closing the doors behind him until the next route is scheduled.

 
 

Written by George Farina: GeorgeFarina.net

Aboard A Train

September 14th, 2022 by No comments »

Train tracks sit atop an overpass. Minutes later a train thunders past. Soon thereafter, slowing as it enters a train station.

The train station’s platform overlooks the city. The buildings are tallish, mostly brick, close to each other, without any balconies, urban looking. Pedestrians walk and ride their bikes through the streets below.

The trains double doors slide open. An elderly man riding an electric scooter boards, quickly finding an out of the way opening just as the trains doors slide closed.

Advertisements are sporadically placed throughout the interior of the train.

A guy and gal board the train at the next stop. They’re in their mid-20’s, hiphopish. He’s wearing a bandana, baggy jeans, a new shirt, very bright, oversized, with a length to his thighs, and new sneakers. The tung hangs out. The shoelaces are loose.

Her hair is plentiful and held up. Strands hang down just past her neck, covering part of the back of her neck. She’s wearing a light sweatshirt flowing to her waist, with snug fitting jeans, not to tight, not to loose, comfortable looking, and new sneakers.

They’re all business. Hustling. Each carrying a few bags of M&M’s, quickly offering them to passengers for a dollar. “M&M’s, a Dollar, M&M’s, a dollar”, they speak loudly, each selling a few before opening the doors to the next train car.

Minutes later, the train slows. The lights flicker as it maneuvers through a tunnel.

A man sits alone in the last seat. He’s fast asleep. The flickering lights don’t wake him. He looks as if he’s been out for a while. He looks as if he doesn’t have a place of his own to rest his head.
Just after the train exits the tunnel, a transit worker enters from the previous train car, walking the length of the train, making sure everything’s ok with the passengers.

He pauses as he passes the man sleeping, briefly looking at him, then, keeps walking. He was kind, he didn’t have the heart to tell the man he can’t sleep on the train. He didn’t have the heart to throw him out to the streets.

A few minutes later, the horn sounds, the brakes squeal as the train approaches the next train station. The name of the train station echo’s over the intercom. The doors slide open.

The train reached the last stop. Everyone exits except the man sleeping. He’ll get another hour of sleep during the next train ride.

 
 

Written by George Farina: GeorgeFarina.net