Tagged: determination

From the Vault.


Men of Distinction – Thomas-Alexandre Dumas (1762 – 1806).

Vitals – Born in Saint-Dominique (Haiti), the son of a white nobleman, Alexandre Antoine Davy de la Pailleterie, and an enslaved African, Marie-Cessette Dumas. -Educated in France, and entered the French  military.

-Rose the ranks from private to General in Chief by age 31, commanding 53,000. 

-Earned renown in numerous wars and battles, earning the nickname ‘The Black Devil’ from his Austrian adversaries for his dogged tenacity on the battlefield.

– Father of Alexandre Dumas, legendary author of The Three Musketeers, The Count of Monte Cristo, and other notable works.

Elevated to the rank of Division General in the French army, becoming the highest ranking man of African origin in a European military structure. Among his many firsts, was the first black man to reach the rank of brigadier general, divisional general, as well as General-in-chief in the French army.



“Once more unto the breach,dear friends, once more”-

legendary words that

Shakespeare so eloquently

envisioned as English King Henry V 

gallantly spurred

his loyal and depleted few to victory over the 

numerically superior French forces,

a powerful army that was overwhelmingly

predicted to crush Henry and his 


“Once more unto the breach”, 

he cried when defeat seemed certain,

and under the unwavering bravery of

those rallying words,

his troops sallied forth courageously into 

the swell of the enemy, and vanquished them

from the field wholly and victoriously.

Shakespeare at his finest…

history at its most endearing.

Once more unto the breach,

we should remind ourselves as we

venture out into the swell of  

life’s intangibles,

against its unknown numbers,

innumerable odds

and challenges that, on paper,

would annihilate us-

once more unto the breach,

as we throw our hats gallantly into the 

mix and swim out against the current

for another shot, another chance, and

another opportunity,

despite the odds,

despite the challenges,

eager to face its unknown numbers,

and eager to cry out ferociously into the

face of opposition-

ready to march forward once more,

ferociously brave in pursuit of any and

every dream that we could possibly


Defeat sometimes seems certain..

victory often seems dim,

until we remember that one more

charge into the fray may mean the

difference between failure and success,

the beginning and the end

if we’re willing to rally forward into the

surge of the current, no matter the odds,

and claim what lands we choose to


Shakespeare at his finest,

history at its most triumphant,

bravery at its most resounding*


-G. Boston  

Monotony – A Story – Part 9

I met her at a checkout line while buying a box of 9mm ammo and a bottle of Tylenol P.M. Yeah, that’s right; bullets and sleeping pills. Looking back, it had to have appeared as somewhat of an oddly curious combination. She strolled into my aisle, all freshly beautiful and radiant and mysterious, initially oblivious to my existence. I’d spotted her earlier, looking intently at the beauty products as I passed by and did a double take and subsequent slow down. I paused to pretend as though I was reading a box of cereal while I briefly gawked surreptitiously, but decided to keep on going once my eyeballs had their fill. They were hungry, and she fed them well. Besides, I really did have some shopping to do. A friend and I were going shooting that weekend, and I’d gone to the store to pick up a few boxes of ammo, and as a result of having slept like pure shit for what seemed like weeks, I’d also discovered the magnificently dreary prowess of Tylenol P.M. That stuff had proved to be a godsend; without it, I was up all night. The zombies that I’d normally been dreaming about? They must have been missing the hell out of my flesh. But there she was, just two feet away from me; she reminded me, in just the first glance, of all the things that I’d always wanted. All the little perfect, daydreamy shit I’d envisioned over the years, all the imagined moments, carefully cultivated images, and dream induced qualities were right there in front of me in full glory. Five feet something of just pure rainbows and sunsets. I couldn’t help but to stare…fuck it, right? Why put a painting on the wall if it wasn’t supposed to be looked at? At that moment, I thought “Why else is a beauty like that created?” So I looked, and of course she noticed me looking, and I felt a slight tinge of embarrassment as she scoped my suicidal looking purchases sprawled out on the register, bright as day.