Category Archives: Creative Writing

Sunday…in a pandemic

Woke at 10 am – excited that I slept a full 7 plus hours, which has been a once a week thing if I’m lucky.

Usually, too hyper-focused on some tiny drama or just overthinking nonsense. Even in my dreams — they seem stuck in one scene that is repeated from multiple angles. I think everybody’s living a little bit of bill murray’s groundhog day. Same day. Same shit. And what day is it?

And I’m super lonely — it’s my superpower. I need five hugs everyday. Skin hunger is real and explains my Quarantine life with a side order of blue balls.

Quarantine has not been kind to my fragile humanbody. I had planned on aging gracefully.

Ever wondered what a slim guy with a baby bump looks like? I’m living it (PICs available upon request).

* Follow me on Twitter @HenryCruz101

Henry the published writer?

Yep, forget what you heard on the streets of my old neighborhood in the Bronx, I wrote a funny…let’s make it go viral or something. (read / share / repeat)

* here’s the article link Trump Doesn’t Like You

* Follow me on Twitter @HenryCruz101

New Comedy Wreck radio (4/27/18) uploaded

here’s that 4/27/18 episode of the Comedy Wreck digital radio show to listen & share

hear future Comedy Wreck show weekly *LIVE* Fridays 4pm-6pm FREE via All Digital Radio app or later FREE on demand

* Follow me on Twitter @HenryCruz101

Cruz day-in-a-life with a fictionalized spin

during my creative writing group I wrote this a real day in my life — followed by a Sci-Fi rewrite – or how my mind reimagines the daily grind away with a few aliens from outerspace and whynot say in that fictionalized account I was a vampire.

7:AM I’m up a half hour after the crack of dawn — that’s about the time of day a big slice of the sun settles in the right side of the apartment. The dog on bed is dead weight his way of telling everyong in the house it’s hella too early to be awake (I agree) — my dog is nicknamed the old lady because he’s 10 years and that’s 500 in dog years if you’re lucky enough to sleep by my side. I sit in the same chair for 20 minutes eyes closed — half asleep — doing the mantra and knocking back those big worldly worries to the curb.
8:45AM The smell of fresh coffee coming from street vender trucks fills the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. I spot a vendor selling chicken empenandas and think that’s a bold choice for breakfast. Sure enough, two women are chowing down on freshly cooked empandas and for at least five whole minutes my world view is rocked.


from my musty bedside filled with dirt the dog had smelled the change. He registered it with a long whimper calling for the end of times. Being a creature of the night I knew this day was coming humans were weak blood vessels.
The crash of New Jersey happened while I was on my chair meditating. A dark cloud with the smell of roast pig pushed into the Bronx and I knew it didn’t just carry smoke. I thought it could use some of grandmas spices.

* Follow me on Twitter @HenryCruz101