Tyrone Livingston
Bio
My name is Tyrone Livingston. I was born, raised and currently still reside in Philadelphia. I'm the host of the Lisper Podcast and I've written three books(published on amazon kdp)
https://anchor.fm/tyrone-livingston
Stories (38)
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Superhero
I grew up just like every other kid. I watched on T.V. as the Protectors saved the world countless times. Glacier, Superstrike, Starbeam and his wife Moonglow and of course the Almighty Alpha! I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to fight Ivan the Erector, Killbot, Masterman, Blaster, Dr. Sorrow. That's what I wanted to be when I grew up. That's what I told my parents and teachers.
By Tyrone Livingston4 years ago in Fiction
Married?
I always wanted to be married. Part of it was because I thought that was what you were supposed to do. As a kid I thought every adult couple that I knew was husband and wife. Of course I got older and realized that wasn't the case. However that didn't discourage me. I still wanted it more than anything in the world. I wanted the wife, the kids and the dog.
By Tyrone Livingston4 years ago in Families
Bruised really hurts
Halle Berry makes her directorial debut in the Netflix film Bruised. In the film Halle stars as former MMA fighter Jackie "Pretty Bull" Justice. She gives up her career after a disgraceful loss. She tries to find redemption by getting back in the cage and fighting again after her mother shows up with a son that she had left behind.
By Tyrone Livingston4 years ago in Geeks
Starnergy
Poe and Stella otherwise known as Starbeam and Moonglow are two of Earth’s greatest heroes. They’ve helped save the planet on countless occasions. Their wedding was a who’s who of celebrities and other superheroes. Matter of fact even a few super villains made appearances as well. They were the most powerful and the most loved. About a year ago they had a beautiful daughter together. They were warned numerous times that star people and moon people don’t mix but they didn’t care. They wanted a child and they had one. They had thought that everyone had been proven wrong. That was until last night when the green light came. Now they are in the greatest fight of their lives.
By Tyrone Livingston4 years ago in Fiction
Hate
I hate him! Every time I walk out there and see him it brings my blood to a boil. He walks around here with his head held up high and his chest pumped out. He has no regard for what he has done to me. It's not fair. Not only has he destroyed my life but now I have to see him everyday. It drives me crazy. Now logic and common sense tells me that this can't be the case but my mind tells me otherwise. My mind tells me that he knows everything that he's done to me. My mind tells me that he's taunting me everyday.
By Tyrone Livingston4 years ago in Families
Everytime
Every time I walk past it I get a pain deep in the pit of my stomach. That fucking field of marigolds. Every time I walk past there I see them. First I see them alive, running and playing. I see them laughing as they all fall down in the flowers I see their beautiful faces. I always try to stop the memory there. I always try to close my eyes until I'm past the field. I hope and pray that once I open them again that it will all be over. It never works though. As soon as I see the field the memory starts and it never stops until it's over. Every time ring around the rosie is done and they all fall down they never get back up. Then I see the truck. I can see the driver inside clear as day. I can see the haziness in his eyes. I can smell the liquor on his breath. I can see the headlights heading straight towards them. Every time I do the same thing. Every time I step in front of the truck. Every time I try to protect them. Every time I fail. Every time I turn to see the license plate and the break lights that never light up. Every time I watch as the as the truck bounces up and down through the field. Every time I watch as the tail lights slowly fade away. Then the truck is gone. I try as hard as I can to end it there. Sometimes I run down the road hoping the memory would fade away but it doesn't. Every time I hear them screaming. Every time I see their brown skin. Their big lifeless eyes. Every time I see their bodies lying their amongst the marigolds. Every time I see them dead. I don't understand why I torment myself in this way. Sometimes I feel like I could just end it. Every time I see it I think about ending my life. Every time I see it I think that it should've been me. I should be the one lifeless. I should be the one lying amonst the marigolds. I tell myself everyday that I'm going to avoid the field. That I'm not going to walk past there. That I'm not going to look at the marigolds. That I'm not going to see that memory today. Every time I wake up and every time I go to bed that's what I tell myself. Every time I fail. Every time I get the chance I walk past there. Every time I see it the memory comes. I asked if I could move. I thought if I perhaps was living somewhere else I could stop this from happening. That if there was no marigold field then there would be no memory. Every time I was told no. Every time I watch that one marigold flower that I've picked from the field die on the window sill I think it's over. I always tell myself that's it. That's the last one. It's not. Every time I walk past that field I pick a new one. I place it on that window sill and start over. Every time I look in the mirror I see the eyes of the driver. Every time I look out of the window at that big wall and all of those barbed wire gates I snell the alcohol on his breath. Every time I see the bars on my jail cell I realize it's me. I realize that the marigold field in the prison courtyard is my karma. It's my reminder of what I've done. Every time I realize it was me, the memory changes. I don't see the girls playing. I don't see the truck headlights. I don't see the break lights, or the license plate. All I see is a blur of the road. I no longer smell the alcohol on the drivers breath, I taste it in my own mouth. I see the field of marigolds. I see the flowers flying through the air as the truck plows through them. Then I see them again. Their brown skin, their lifeless bodies. Then I see the lights. The red and blue lights. Then I see the faces. The sad faces. The face of the man. The face that seems full of rage. The face that has the fire in the eyes. The face that I know wants me dead. Then the face of the woman. The confused face. The eyes of extreme sadness. The face with the streaks on it from all of the dried up tears. Every time I go to sleep I hope not to wake up. Every time the memory comes I realize that it's not the prison of my body that bothers me. I deserve to be here. It's the prison of my mind that I can't endure. Every time I see that field. Every time I pick that marigold. Every time I watch it die. Every time I start all over again. Every time I walk past that field. Every time the memory comes. Every time I see them dead. I want to die myself. I go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning and I walk past that field. Every time!
By Tyrone Livingston5 years ago in Fiction
Talk that talk
My entire life I've leaned on entertainment as a way to cope with life. I could always zone out listening to music, watching movies or television and especially playing video games. I also loved to talk about it. I loved to tell people about the movie that I saw or the newest video game I've played.
By Tyrone Livingston5 years ago in Humans
Roulette
The game is called Roulette. It isn't your typical casino game. There is no wheel or any numbers. There is no little white ball. This game is more along the lines of Russian roulette but not quite. There's no gun. There's no single bullet. Death is not the fate of the loser. Survival is not the motivation of the winner either, instead it's a million dollar prize.
By Tyrone Livingston5 years ago in Fiction
