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This has been a long time coming.

I've never felt this proud or more thankful in my entire life. I finally see the good things happening all around me, instead of always zeroing in on all the shit. It's actually pretty refreshing.

I now have reliable statistics on the number of hits all my outlets are getting and I have to say I'm astonished by the high the numbers for this blog. It's been viewed by (almost) thousands of people from all over the world. Have you ever been so proud you cried? It's a good feeling.

For my final piece of 2010 I wanted to let you know how much you being here means to me.

For those of you who just read one piece and moved on, thank you for giving it a shot. I have no hard feelings if you don't dig what I do.

For those of you "blog surfing" and were on mine for .0003 seconds, slow down a bit. Oh, also thank you for increasing my hits and, therefore, inflating my ego.

To all my visitors from foreign countries who can read English; thank you and I'm sorry my country can be a bit of a dick at times. Our hearts are in the right place, we just need to use our brains a little more when logic comes into play.

For all my offshore guests who can't read English. You probably never understood a single thing I've written here, but thank you all the same. And poop. poop poop poop poopoooppooooppooppoopofpoapfoapdopasdofpasopssssssssssssss

Speaking of nonsense, to all the bots who left countless (meaning I'm too lazy to go and count them all) Engrish words of wisdom or insult, which were always followed by links to porn sites written in hieroglyphics. Thank you for inspiring a piece and making every time I checked my email just a little more interesting.

For those of you who secretly follow this and, or, check my site regularly; thank you so much. While you're not the reason I do this, you are what makes it worthwhile.

To Amber, Missy, Danni and Kiara; I sincerely thank you for the support and strength. While I choose not to go into details about my specific feelings for each, the four of you hold very special places in my heart.

And, last but certainly not least, to "the girl who taught me the art of letting go";...this is the first time thinking about you leaves me without a single thought. Interesting.

Tonight, go out and have fun, but be safe. I need you well and rested for 2011.

Shit's goin down.

My ideal mate.

Tina Fey in public, Heather Brooke in private.

Pay attention.

If you're not reading between the lines or exploring every rabbit hole, you're missing out on the best parts of what I do. I used to be a writer, but it's becoming so much more than the words bled out onto a page. No, it's gotten bigger. In order to truly see how many levels this is all working on, you're going to have to work for it.

I promise you though, the secrets you uncover will be well worth the time and effort.

Happy hunting.

Loss Pt. 2: The eulogy I wish I had given

It's funny the difference a year can make.

I still remember your funeral. The pastor and other members of the church talked about you. They said they didn't know you before you found God, but they liked the Mark they knew after you sheeped up. In fact, you got two different eulogies. One was for the Mark people saw at church. They referred to the Mark I knew, and loved, as "That Other Mark."

This made me furious, though no one else felt aggrieved.

I felt this away every time a church representative spoke, but you should have seen Vinnie. Your son has the heart of a lion, man. Just like his old man.

To me the scariest thing about dying has always been just how fast everyone else moves on without you. I mean, that's what we did once the ache of losing you subsided. Because, once you're gone the people you love are still here. What other choice do they have?

But you're not forgotten. I think about you all the time. Mostly at family functions, because we were always attached at the hip. I wander around lost during them now, like I'm looking for someone I'm never going to find again.

You were the first, of two, family members to read my book. Hearing you talk about it was the first time I truly felt accomplished as a writer.

I think about you when I listen to our most frequent topic of conversation, The Russ Martin Show. He finally made it back on the air, six months too late.

I miss driving around for hours laughing and crying as you'd tell me all about your life. I still treasure your tales of being a professional wrestler. The pastor mentioned this era of your life briefly and dismissively. It was his goddamned dream and it was given one sentence.

See, I knew you as "That Other Mark" and you were a beautiful human being.

You were the brother I never had.

And I miss you.

New audio and a touching moment

I've just finished recording the audio for "Haunted". I originally wrote this piece back in June of '08. I really like doing this stuff because it allows me to breathe new life into old words. It also provides a genuine look into my state of mind at crucial points in my past. It's the fourth one I've done so far; with "My muse", "Expulsion" and "Wake up call" being the others. All of them can be found on the Audile page of

Well, since you've brought up my site I'll tell you a story. A couple of days ago my closest and most missed friend from South Carolina was checking it out and got inspired and created 4 animated promos for it. (you can find them on the F.R.H. TV page) Two of them really stuck with me. The first one I won't ruin it for you, but it's on the Intro page. For the second one, he took lyrics from "Deja Vu" and made a minute long cartoon for it. It was a little low tech, but that only added to its charm. I recorded audio of me singing the lyrics and I can't wait to see what he does with it.

That's about all for now. Expect a lot of site updates in the's kind of my life now.

My muse

2010 is almost over and it's left my head swimming. Every time I've tried to process it all, I'm rendered absolutely speechless.

I was in a weird place when the year began. I was growing increasingly forlorn with my room mate and performing at open mics was my only respite. The main problem with this is, most of the time when I'm on stage, I'm talking about you.

When I was at my loneliest I met her. It happened online and we hit it off immediately. She was loving, passionate and outspoken; three words I could never have used to describe you. In typical fashion, we moved too fast and the passion burned out long before our relationship did.

We were fighting more often than not, each one of them ending with her saying I needed to go back to therapy. The stress of problems in and outside of our relationship led to it ending with a whimper on our sixth month anniversary. My family took it harder than I did.

Right after that, I got promoted and my room mate bailed on me. Suddenly, 75% of the stress in my life was gone...and I flourished.

Aside from kicking ass at work, I started making real progress on myself for the first time in my life. I started writing again, often about you.

With the knowledge and tools I obtained through my new position I began to record and experiment with my words. This led to an emotional baptism. See, writing my book two years ago allowed me to exorcise my demons, but it was the website that truly healed the wounds and opened my eyes. Both of them have echos of you on every single page.

While I am getting better at letting go, there are three things that, while extremely painful, I'm going to choose to hold onto. This is because they are important and have shaped me into the man I am. I don't want to forget how I got here, because that's how I lose myself.

Which, as always, brings me back to you. The memory of our relationship is one of the things I'm going to keep.

I used to think you were the biggest mistake of my life, but now I see you differently. I wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for our time together. It was the single most painful experience of my entire life, but I treasure every single second.

Now, when I hear you laugh right outside my office it makes me smile. I don't hate you and you're not my baggage.

You're simply...

my greatest inspiration.

Don't judge me. This crap helps.

I had another one of those days again. Today I really wanted to talk to someone. I listened to a lot of people, but I didn't get to attain mutual commiseration. It sucks. I don't mind listening to everyone else's woes, as long as they actually ask me how I'm doing and wait for my reply.

It's getting worse. I'm starting to not feel connected to anyone, which makes me ache for it on any level I can get. I haven't been this alone in a long time. It's beginning to feel as if I'm no longer real.

I don't leave my apartment unless I have to. The phone hardly rings and when it does, it's rarely good news. I eat a lot of pizza because that's the only food a stranger will bring to my door. I take extreme measures to avoid human contact, but it's the thing I think I need the most.


I'm starting to see truths from my past which have alluded me for years. However, knowing the intellection of my demons doesn't make them any easier to control. Especially when you have to carry them unaided.

That's why I do this stuff.

See, writing for me isn't a hobby. It's a goddamn necessity. Without the entire process it takes to get it out I can't even function. I write down every word I never get to tell another human being.

Then I send them out into the abyss of cyberspace. A distress beacon which has, until this point, fallen upon deaf ears.

And now a collection of my status messages from Facebook. With Commentary

I've been kind of lax in my posts lately, but that's because so much has been going on. I wanted to let those of you who still follow this know about them, but there's just been so much it was hard to pick where to start. I guess March is as good a place as any...

Time to invest in myself. The objective is to get 1,000 dollars in order to publish the book. (The latest, "I'm gonna make it big", scheme. Then I researched self publishing and decided against it. I did finally invest in myself, though. It just took several months to figure it out.)

Davlin Stewart wants to do the right thing. (This was something I touched upon in "This is the present I gave myself" three months later.)

The Double Down from KFC is Satan incarnate! Ten minutes after consuming it I gave birth to the anti-christ. ('s fucking awful.) fanboys are a bunch of pathetic, whiny dickholes. I love it. (I read nerd message boards more than any self respecting human being rightfully should.)

After watching "Jesus Camp" and "Hell House" I finally realized the main problem I have with's the Christians themselves. (Speaks for itself.)

I'm completely alone. The apartment is silent. And I can't stop smiling. (This was right after my room mate ditched me and I began to see the silver lining of the situation.)

Bound to Happen-The Spill Canvas (When my girlfriend and I broke up, this song said it all.)

Just recorded my first MP3. Technology is awesome. (This was the spark that started it all.)

Ready to hit the "studio". (It was all I could think about.)

Ok, my goal this weekend is to finish one more track. Wish me luck. (I did a lot of work, none of which I was happy with.)

Watching MST3K. Thank you, Netflix. (One of my all time favorite shows.)

I hate you Assassins Creed 2. I hate you so much. (Fuck that game.)

Collect calls to home, tell them that I realize that everyone who lives will someday die and die alone.----Brand New (Not sure why this particular lyric grabbed at that moment. Still, it's a damn good line.)

I've just recorded something magical. I am in awe. (This track still gives me chills.)

I've written a few new pieces at Check it. (Hopefully, you already have.)

This is a text I just sent a friend of mine. "I know it hurts, that it's hard on both of you. But don't let them poison the love you share. I'm a goddamn woman." (There you go, Missy.)

I can't remember the last time I felt this creative. (This is when I started thinking about the website. It was a slow burn, but it eventually became an inferno.)

Just found out my 360 has a voicemail function. Now I get to hear my friend's snarky comments about me playing "The Dishwasher". (Stoopid Rory.)

I think I'm in love with Tina Fey. (I <3 you, Tina Fey.)

Last night's episode of "The Office" was one of my favorites. Insert "Michael Scott montage with Eminem's "When I'm gone" playing in the background" here. (I've all but given up hope on the series.)

Building a website is tough. (It sure was, past Davlin. But don't worry, it's all worth it in the end!)

Business cards just came in. It feels so good to see the dream take shape. (I told you so.)

After 80 hours of work, designing of the notebook is complete. The site will be up in a manner of weeks. The trailer will be up even sooner. (Oh, past Davlin. You're so naive.)

As a side project, I want to get a group of people together and write a screenplay. Anyone interested? (No one was.)

I just read a wolverine comic done by Jhonen Vasquez...awesome. (Pure fanboy bliss.)

Tonight I listened to "Good Man" by Brand New. It made me think of you. (Inspiration!)

150 hours and the notebook is officially complete. It is the single most beautiful thing I've ever done. (It was two hundred hours for the entire site.)

"Blankets" by Craig Thompson=sheer brilliance (Just a graphic novel I stumbled upon and deserves to be read.)

The site is now live. (And it is GLORIOUS.)

Oh self publishing company who still sends me emails, how I laugh at you. (I did invest in myself, just in my own way.)

Just took dad to see the new Harry Potter flick for his birthday. He also told me he was proud of me. So, yeah...pretty good day. (Which I've previously blogged about.)

God, I love Brand New. (I really, really do.)

After a little over a week my site has gotten just at 80 hits. Not too bad. I mean, it's not great, but it's a start. However, the daily user activity report is mildly disheartening. (Cue the violin.)

Open Mic at Mokah Coffee Bar! (It was a fantastic show.)

Today a co-worker told me I was the coolest white boy he's ever known. It was one of the 5 proudest moments of my life. (I still smile thinking about this.)

Working on a potential article for It's given me a justifiable reason to play with my action figures again. My inner child smiles. (I've been following the site for years, it's been an honor chatting with the creator, Wes.)

Dear Hollywood, I just read the "Deadpool" script review. You've screwed me over so many times in the past. Now, I'm begging you, please make this movie. Hoping you still have a soul, Davlin (I tried to blog about this, but every time I'd try, I'd black out from the white hot rage.)

Been home about half an hour and I still can't stop thinking about my class. The only thing I'd like to be besides a writer is a teacher. It's funny how things work out. (Which brings us to the now.)

Well, that's been the last few months brought to you by Facebook.

My favorite memory of her.

It was a few years ago, when our relationship was still fresh.

I had fallen on rough financial times and my power was cut off. I took it pretty hard. She was supposed to come over the night I found out, so I called her up and tried to reschedule. She asked me why and I refused to lie to her. I told her how ashamed I was at not being able to pay my own bills, quite horribly depressed and didn't want her to see me in such a state.

"It doesn't matter to me. I'm on my way over."

When she arrived it was after dark and my apartment was illuminated by candlelight. I was crestfallen.

She tried her hardest to bring me out of it.

"You're not a failure, jeez."

"Everybody struggles sometimes."

"I still like you"

Anyone who's ever dealt with me when I'm depressed knows how unresponsive I can be and the feelings of utter frustration that particular trait can instill.

"C'mon," she said, this time much less enthusiastically," what do you want to do?"

My eyes quickly surveyed my surroundings. Almost every single thing we usually did together required electricity. Then, I remembered our outing to Borders two nights prior when I had purchased a novel sized pop up book authored by Stephen King.

I looked at her with the most genuine smile I could muster, "I could read to you by candlelight."

"Ok." She said as she smiled back. It was one of the only times I've seen her eyes and lips smile in concert.

So, I removed the plastic from the tome and began. As I read, I'd change my voice to fit the characters and pull levers which brought the pages to life. She sat and listened untilI turned the last one and brought the story to its end.

During the entire course of our intimate, calamitous relationship, this is the only moment I think we truly shared. I also think I enjoyed it way more than she did.