Category: My Story

Posted on

Midnight Guitars

No Curfew in Sight…

It was the summer of 1995…
I was 21…
going through much…
trying to figure life out…

I’d just moved in with a guy I worked with…
only been there a few weeks…
it was the weekend…
I’d been out late hanging with my friends…

when I finally came home…
I headed down the hall toward my bedroom…

As I got closer…
I could hear a guitar playing…
a girl singing…
the sound was coming from my room…

I was like wth!?…

I opened my door…

There on my bed…
a black-haired girl I had never seen before…
strumming my guitar…
singing…
completely lost in it…
like she owned the night…
no curfew in sight…

she wasn’t wearing any clothes…
my brain just blue-screened…

I was frozen…
my tongue super stuck…

she looks at me…
with friendly eyes…
smiles and says Hey

“your roommate said it was ok…”

Her name was Rachel…
she and I became friends…
we often jammed together…

she was a part-time exotic dancer…
aka…
a stripper…

my roommate was dating her friend…
so many nights…
she and her friends…
plural…
ended up at my house…

but she never wanted to hang out with the rest of them…
she just wanted to chill…
sing songs…
play guitar…

She was a great musician…
had a great voice…
music was her dream…

Many times I’d come home late
find her in my room…
doing her thing…

I’d grab my other guitar…
and we’d play for hours…

I had a small recording studio
we’d lay down tracks…
we recorded all kinds of covers…
had these freestyle…
ad-lib jam sessions…
just chasing whatever sound showed up…

It was definitely a crazy summer…
but also kind of holy in its own way…

it’s beautiful how musicians can come together and bond…
doesn’t matter who or what you are…
your background or anything…

musicians and artists just immediately have that thing.
that links us…
that invisible wire…
heart to heart…
song to song…

what I remember most those nights…
isn’t the chaos…

it’s the music…

two guitars…
chasing songs in the middle of the night…
letting the sound carry through a messy season of life…

…

I did much praying that summer…

cryin’ out in the night…

sometimes with words…
sometimes with songs…

finding healing…

wherever I could…

..

Oh yeah I might be crazy…
But that’s not the same as insane…
And I’m scared…
But that’s not the same as being afraid…

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

🎧… 👗…

`’.,°~

Posted on

Almost

Two Lottery Stories

What would you do if you won the lottery?

I’ve got two lottery stories. Here’s the first—one that’s stuck with me for years.

Back when I used to work delivering top-grade fruits and vegetables to restaurants all over Atlanta, one of the guys I worked with told me this story about his aunt and uncle up in Michigan. They were the kind of folks who played the lottery religiously—same numbers every week, knew them by heart. His uncle worked construction, his aunt stayed home.

One day, the uncle was on the job, radio on in the background, when the lottery numbers came up. One by one, he heard them read off… and they were his numbers. Every single one. He stood there frozen, trying to grasp it—he was a millionaire, just like that. He felt like Jed Clampett, like George Jefferson—about to “move on up,” as they say. He couldn’t believe it—after all that time, the numbers finally hit.

Trembling, he grabbed his phone and called home. His wife answered. He could barely get the words out—“Honey, we won. We won!” You can imagine that rush of joy, disbelief, tears, laughter—the whole spectrum of emotions hitting at once.

When they finally calmed down, he asked her, “Where’s the ticket?”

Silence.

She didn’t know. Couldn’t remember. They searched every corner of that house—you name it: drawers, kitchen counters, coat pockets, even the trash—but the ticket was gone.

Never turned up.

It was a multimillion jackpot—ten million or more, my coworker said. They never recovered from it. They ended up divorcing. He drank himself into an early grave; she lost her mind and eventually wound up in a mental hospital.

I’ll never forget that story. They were just one missing ticket away from a whole new life. Makes you realize how thin the line is between winning big and losing everything…

…

…

The second story’s a little different—it’s about the strange brush I had with the lottery once.

I don’t normally play. Honestly, it had probably been ten years since the last time I bought a ticket. But one day, these numbers just popped into my head out of nowhere. They felt… random, but not really. So I scribbled them down and thought, why not? Maybe I’m supposed to play these.

That evening, I bought a ticket for the Fantasy Five drawing. Later that night, I sat down in front of the TV, ticket in hand, heart doing that nervous little dance while I waited for the numbers to roll out.

The first one—bam. I had it.
The second—got it.
The third—hit again.
The fourth—yes! Four in a row.

Now it all came down to the last number. If it hit, I’d be holding a ticket worth half a million dollars. I was right there on the edge of my seat, waiting… the winning number flashed on the screen—29.

I looked down. Mine said 30.

Missed it by one digit. Just one.

Still, four out of five wasn’t bad—I got a hundred bucks out of it. Not life-changing, but it sure made for a good story.

Funny how luck works, isn’t it? One number can mean the difference between a payday and just another story before bed…

So I guess if there’s any moral here, it’s this—don’t store your hopes and dreams in things that can be lost…
store them where they’re eternal —
that’s where the true jackpot is waiting…

As for me… I don’t believe in luck or chance.

…….🚫💰🏃‍♂️🌍…⏳🕯️…👋🪦🚫🧳…🚘⚰️🚫🧳🧺…✅💎⬆️☁️✝️…♾️✨…….—/—$→🌍…⏳…→∅…⚰→∅…→↑†…∞’…….🚫$→🌍…⏳…⚰️→🚫🧳…“no hearse w/ luggage rack”.🤷‍♂️..↑†☁️…💎→♾️’…….—/—$→🌍…⏳🕯️…⚰️→∅…↑†☁️…💎♾️…….<3†’

Matthew 13:44 (NIV)
“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field…”

© 2026 bryanforchrist. All rights reserved.

`’.,°~                          …..t

Posted on

Saltwater and Second Chances

The Day Me and My Friend Almost Drowned…

It was the summer of 1996…
I had it all figured out—
  until I didn’t…
I thought I could—
  until I couldn’t…

Life shows up at times…
 and will straight wreck your ship—
it’s a beast…
 a leviathan…

You can’t just ebb with the tide…
 if you don’t lead it—
  it will lure you…

Drowning is not an option…
Swim like your life depends on it—
  because it does…

Me…
my friend Terrell…
and his girlfriend Helen
decided to go to Panama City.. Florida
for the weekend…

It was about a six hour drive from Atlanta…
I was really spontaneous back then—
 so were my friends…

We would do crazy stuff on a whim…
 without thinking much about it…
it was Helen’s idea—
 T and me just looked at each other
  and smiled…

Within half an hour…
we were in the car and on the road—
 the highway was our runway…
 we didn’t have a flight plan…

After watching my life race by
like highway lines…
for what felt like eternity—
we finally made it…

That’s a notorious drive…
 it always feels double the time it takes…

So we found our rooms…
 chilled for a short time…
bought beer—
 and headed to the beach…

I didn’t know this but
T brought a funnel…
and he knew I had never done it before—
 so I tried it…
  about choked myself…

No bro…
it’s cool…
thanks anyway…

I like to actually taste
and enjoy a beer—
not shoot it like a rocket…
Down my throat…
to my brain
and insides…

So after a day of brutal heat
and alcohol…
I could hear the Gulf
calling my name—

Deep calls to deep…
 like a favorite song…

The two of us traded
the safety of the sand…
 for liquid turquoise…
oh.. how good it felt
on my body…

Such a beautiful and strange thing—
 is water…
It gives life…
 it can take it too…

We both were excellent swimmers…
 loved it so…
spent a lot of time in the water together—
 we ventured out pretty far…

I started to get a little tired…
Told T we should head back to shore—
 he agreed…
I could tell he was tiring too…

We hit a sandbar…
finally able to stand…
feel the bottom again…

I could feel the alcohol
hitting me more…
 creeping up on me…
  my head was spinning…

As I was bobbing…
 fighting waves…
an undercurrent picked up slightly—
 pulled us off the sandbar…

We could no longer stand…
It was back to treading…

T wasn’t looking good—
 he had way too much to drink…
This was a bad idea…
 things were about to get real…

Suddenly—
we were like two kites
with broken strings…

He started to struggle hard…
 fell below the surface…
  then up again…
   then down once more…

Oh no…
 oh no…

He cried out for me—
 help me…
  then he went under…

I went down after him…
with what strength I had left—
 got him back up…

But he was in survival mode…
 total panic…

He clung to me—
 I couldn’t move
  my arms
  or legs…

Next thing I know…
I was under water…
 he was on top of me…

Stepping all over me—
 his feet pushing me further down
as he fought for his life…
 to stay afloat…

I sank below…

Under water…
 out of strength…
  out of breath…
   far from home…

Fear spun over me
like a dreaded whirlwind—

I thought about the ones I loved…
 my life…
  how I should have done better…

I tried to fight some more—
 but I just had nothing left…
  zero breath…

I noticed the sun above…
 its beams shooting through the water
  all around me…

The fear left…
I was ok now…

I said a prayer…
 then from beneath the ocean…
  I said my goodbyes…

I gave up and breathed in saltwater…

Then—
unexpectedly…

I felt sand under my feet…
With new-found strength—
 I pushed off and up…

My head shot above water…
I found myself again
on the elusive sandbar…

I instantly started coughing…
 spitting out water from my lungs…

I breathed in—
 it was air this time…

I slowly walked
the narrow sandbar
back to shallower water…

I made it back to the beach…

My waterlogged body—
 collapsing…
  surrendering to sleep…

Later that evening…
close to sunset…

I woke…
 I remembered…
  I was so thankful…
   grateful…
    happy to be alive…

But oh my Lord—
 where was T…
  was he ok…

Then—
down the beach…

I saw him
and Helen…

The same thing had happened to him…
He somehow made it to shore…
 passed out…
  and slept…

He had just woken up
the same time I did…

This was all just so unreal…
How blessed
and fortunate
we were to have made it out…

I learned major lessons that day…
 I’m always learning stuff…

…

My friend T survived the ocean that day…
Only to be shot and killed years later—

Murdered…
 gunned down…
  in cold blood…

Like he was nothing…

over nothing…

He made it out of the water…
 but not the world…

And I’m still out here…

trying to make sense
  of the waves

…

that never stop coming…

Psalm 42:7 (NIV)


“Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls…
all your waves and breakers have swept over me…”

© 2026 Bryan H. All rights reserved.

`’.,°~

Posted on

Across the Night Mile

my word journey…

When I was a kid…
in school…
I so enjoyed reading… and literature…
it felt like doorways…

I loved to write stuff back then…
my teachers would encourage me…
give me a little praise here and there…

I always felt a strange connection to writing—
it tugged at me throughout my early years…

But after high school…
I mostly abandoned it…
I just folded it up neatly…
put it away…

Except for trying to write a few songs once in awhile…
but it was like I had the worst word block…
for most of my life…

I could feel the words…
I just couldn’t effin find them…

I guess it wasn’t time yet…
I was still living it all…

So I laid my pen down…
grabbed a pick…
grabbed my guitar…

I let it fly…

I stopped trying to write my own songs so much—
focused on learning all the songs on the radio…

I bought album after album…
I learned them…

Music became me…

Great lyrics from the heart and soul of others…
helped me see in the night…

The words that were in me—
that I couldn’t find—
I found elsewhere…
and put them in me…

An endless amount…
filling all the holes…
inside… 😎

With my pen in my pocket…
a guitar in my hand…
I stood tall…

Step after step…
strum after strum…

I walked it out…
through the fire…
through the rain…
through the pain…

I walked it out…
across the night mile…

Alone…
but never alone…

I walked it out…

Now…
I just look back…
and give it all—
the final finger… 😁

I think the pen is about ready for action…
again…

A few months ago…
I had a dream…

Words were on their way to me—
riding the night…

I dreamt of a poem…

I was so moved when I woke…
I just laid in bed thinking…

Then—for about twenty minutes—
I wrote…
bringing to life the dream…

For a week after that…
the words kept up…

Coming from somewhere inside…
pouring out…
filling pages…
Feeling right…

like I found a buried key…
to a blue treasure room…

This happened all of a sudden…
in one night…

And it hasn’t stopped since…

I’m just trying to keep up…

I don’t know why it came when it did—
but I’m thankful it did…

The great dam…
has finally broke…

I started feeling something inside…
a hummingbird…

Telling me I should start a blog…
so I did…

So here I am…

So what do I do now?
haha…

I think I’ll just be me…

I started feeling I should write about my life—
so I did…
so I have…
so I probably will more…

I never dreamed how much it would help me…
by telling my story…

Like draining a fevered swamp…

So when I write now…
I pray some…

I pick out my music…
usually a full album…

I get in the zone…
it’s game time baby…

Then I remember…
then I go back…
to how it was…
to how it felt…
to the emotions of it all…

Then I embrace that intensity…

I let my words rise from inside…
like heat from the asphalt…

Then I let go of it…

I give it all away—

for good… 😎 `’.,°~

She once believed… in every story he had to tell…

Once divided… nothing left to subtract… some words when spoken… can’t be taken back…

And He who forgets… will be destined to remember…

© 2026 Bryan H. All Rights Reserved.

Posted on

My Edumacation…

What colleges have you attended?

Life Christian University (LCU) —
minored at Hard Way Community College 😎`’.,°~

LCU is a real college… yes.. I actually attended 😄 studied theology…

…….⛓️⚫️😮‍💨💧🚬🚗🙏 🛣️’…….==o–||–o==→……🤕💔🍾😞🚙🙏🌙’……./\/\_💔_/\/\→’ ‘…….↯😵→😔→🙏→↗️’…….↯→…→/→^’…….🎓✝️→⛓️⚫️→😮‍💨→📚🔥’…….[ ]→==o–||–o==→’ 🤌🤌🤌💯

Well it’s been ten years… and a thousand tears… and look at the mess I’m in…

© 2026 Bryan H. All Rights Reserved.

Posted on

Midnight…

My New Year’s Eve Story…

On the last night of the year…
hope felt easy…
it hummed in my chest…
like a song I thought I finally knew by heart…

I was already living…
in the glow of tomorrow…

Then—
in a breath
the air shifted…

with hard words…
a sudden silence inside…

that old familiar pit
opened in my stomach…
eating up the light
I had just begun to trust…

I laid there in the dark…
for awhile…
just numb…

trying not to embrace it…
yet longing to be embraced…

exhausted…
overwhelmed…

I drifted off…
on cold sheets of glass…

praying not to dream…
just to sleep…
just to forget…
if only for a little while…

At midnight—
I woke…

to colored bombs
bursting in air…

then… despair…

wonderful colors…
of months passed…
seemed no more…

cosmic lonely hit…
it wasn’t a dream…

I just laid there…
thinking…

with my 100-pound heart…

with silent flow…
I wet my pillow…

a quiet deep fountain…
rushing in the night…

eyes I haven’t known…
in awhile…

Eventually—
I fell back asleep…

only to wake again…
at 1:43…

and 3:33…

just to repeat
the things written above…

When I woke the last time—
through the blinds…
lines of sunshine…

warmed me…

like kisses…
all over my face…

Thank You God…

I know it will be ok…

I know it’s going to be a good year 😎`’.,°~

…….⛈️→💃🌧️→🙂<3→😞📅→😊📅→🚫😨→👀→☀️→🌈’…….~⛈~→\o/→<3→↓°→↑°→?→!→|→^°→~^~’

Psalm 102:6–7 ✨️🦉🏜🐦🏠

“I am like a desert owl of the wilderness…
like an owl of the waste places…
I lie awake…
I have become like a lonely bird on a housetop…”

© 2026 Bryan H — All Rights Reserved.

Posted on

Fireworks and Faith…

God on the Shoulder of the Highway…

It was New Year’s Eve… 1997 into ’98…
I had survived…
The year — I mean… I wasn’t sure I would…

The heart I have today…
was still shaping back then…
burning… crushing…
maybe it was the fireworks outside —
or maybe just my own…

There was a party that night…
at my friends’ house — Sam and Becky…

their place was always full of people…
I spent so many weekends there that year…
it was like my second home…

crazy nights… good nights…
we were all so close…

often I’d bring my guitar…
and we’d sit around until morning…
singing songs… drinking…
and sometimes… yeah… drugs…

I was on an intense champagne high…
I’d had way too much…
I normally didn’t get like that…
I could usually hold my own…
but not that night…

my plan was to crash there…
just pass out on a couch like always…

but around 3 am…
I had some words with a friend of mine…
she pissed me off…

so….. stubborn and spinning…
I grabbed my keys…
made my way to my car…
and decided to attempt the 45-minute drive
back to my apartment…

I honestly don’t remember much
about the first half of the drive…

I somehow managed to make it
onto Interstate 75 North…
and then everything just
kind of went black…

I remember hearing…
and feeling…
this repetitive vibrating —
a low rumbling sound…

I thought I was dreaming…
the sound just kept going…

finally… I opened my eyes…

the strangest moment…
still hard to describe properly with words…

I had passed out while driving…
slipped over
into the passenger seat
of my Camaro…

and my car
was still doing about 60 mph…
riding the shoulder of Interstate 75…
inches from the guardrail…

the sound I was hearing —
the rumble strip…
screaming at me that I was in danger…

I sat up immediately…
grabbed the wheel…
pulled myself back into the travel lanes…
just in the nick of time…

there was an abandoned vehicle
directly in front of me…
I missed it by only a few feet…

I was completely sober now…

I kept driving home…

I just couldn’t believe it…
I could have killed someone…
and almost killed myself…

then…
I had this powerful spiritual moment…

I felt a Presence…
a Holy Voice inside…

I don’t know how long I was asleep…
but I know…

someone had the steering wheel…

I was sure of it…

I talked with Him
the rest of the way home…

and somewhere
on that dark stretch of road…

I made my resolutions
for 1998…

`’.,°~

© 2025–2026 Bryan H. All Rights Reserved.

Posted on

Beavis & Butthead…

a story from my life…

Back in 2o09… my life was fun fun… you know… dodging bullets… concrete shoes… watery graves… Judas kisses… the usual crap
Eventually… I took a break from all the excitement
And checked myself into an 18 month drug rehab in Florida
They say rehab is for quitters… yep… they’d be right…

A few weeks in… something real started happening inside me
Things slowed down
Life was simple
Clear
Peaceful
For the first time in a long time… I was happy
My mind was sharp
God was working in me something fierce
Speaking loud
Speaking clear
I knew… I was exactly where I needed to be…

We were on this beautiful ten acre spread
And I lived in a house with about ten other guys
All of them tired
All of them broken
All of them ready for change
They became my brothers
And— they still are…

One of my responsibilities there… was to care for the ministry dog
His name was Beavis
Cool name— cooler dog
He was older… a boxer mix… gorgeous… and so smart
He didn’t really have anywhere to go either
His owner Stuart had died of cancer about a year before I arrived… and Beavis never recovered from it…

He was grieving
Deeply
They told me how he cried… and searched… and waited for Stuart…
And it broke my heart
A dog that was once full of life… joy… energy… spark…
Was now quiet… distant… hurting…
He would not let anyone in…

But there was one thing he still loved…
There was this random green 10 pound bowling ball on the property
You could sling that thing across the grounds
And Beavis would bark… chase it down… and roll it across the field with his head…
Like it was the most important mission on earth
I had never seen a dog play with a bowling ball before 😁
He absolutely loved it
So I made it my daily mission… to roll life back into him…

People told me Beavis would never bond with anyone again
That he belonged to Stuart
That his heart was finished choosing humans…

Challenge accepted—

I took care of him
Vet visits
Meds
Food
Time
Love
Patience
And after about a year and a half… it happened…
Beavis chose me—
He followed me everywhere
He slept beside my bed
He watched me
Protected me
Laughed with me… in his dog way…
He came back to life…

But loving… comes with cost—

Because he slept outside before I came…
He had gotten heartworms from mosquitoes
Over the four years I lived there… after graduating… and becoming resident director…
Beavis slowly grew sicker…
I gave him antibiotics daily
I loved him harder as he grew weaker
And.. Just like he stayed with Stuart— I stayed with him… til the end…

He had a soft bed right beside mine
He had warmth
Comfort
Care
Family
Honor…
He was treated like royalty—

All us guys loved him so…

And when the time came… I could not watch him suffer anymore…
I made the call…
Was so hard for me…
So hard…

Beavis was one of the greats
Not just a dog…
A gift—

He was meant for me
I was meant for him

destined for each other…

I will always remember him…

The mighty— loyal— stubborn— beautiful heart of Beavis…

He was my Dawg… 😎`’.,°~

…

Though oceans roar… You are the Lord of all… The one who calms the wind and waves and makes my heart be still…
Though the Earth gives way… the mountains move into the sea…
The nations rage… I know my God is in control…

© 2025–2026 bryanforchrist. All rights reserved.

`’.,°~

Posted on

The Window Song

one broken summer… one beautiful moment…

The Summer of 97`
was rough man…

like couldn’t get any worse…
far as the heart goes…


go read my story First Love
and you will get it… 😁


…but now looking back…
it was beautiful…

So I did three things that summer…

went to work…
played my guitar…
hung out with friends…


killing everything with drugs and alcohol…
straight up gunning my life down…


At the time… I was living in a downstairs apartment…
in the burbs of Atlanta…


That summer… I spent many a day and night…
many an hour…


sitting on the edge of my bed…
right in front of an open window…


strumming my strings…
singing my blues away…


learning new songs…
holding fast to old ones…


I had just finished a concert to myself lol…
when I heard a soft hello…


Then I looked… and there —
at my window —

was the beautiful face
that belonged to the voice…


She lived in the neighborhood…
I didn’t know her…


With my guitar still in my hands…
we talked — through the screen —


She was kind… honest…
open…


She told me that for a month…
she would pass by my window…


hoping I would be there…
singing…
playing…


She told me how much she looked forward to it…
how the music helped her…
because she was dealing with much in her life…

She said she would lean against my building…
beside my window…
just out of sight…


listen for a while…
breathe in deep…


she said my feelings —
that I was giving away in those songs —
she recognized them…
as her own…

She said she’d get lost in my songs…
forget things…
for a little while…


I’ve never had a better compliment…


So I told her…


my window… was her window…
my song… was her song…


and she was welcome… anytime…

`’.°~

…….<~|🜔|~>→🪟→♪♪~…….<~|*|~>→|[]|→~~~♪~ `.°~ @’~~~ that’s what she said…

While writing this I listened to the album Kerosene Hat by Cracker… from 1993…

She was definitely… a hidden gem… from the b-side… 😎`’.,

© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved

`’.,°~

Posted on

life is like an effin’ box of chocolates… 📦 🍫

last night while sleeping…

Last night…
in my dream…
I was Forrest Gump—

only for a little bit
and not nearly as smart as him 😁

But seriously…

I was sitting on a bench—
in a town square—
just like the movie

As I do in all my dreams…
I scanned everything first—
taking it in—
inspecting the air
the place
the feeling—
before diving in

Sitting beside me on the bench—
was a man I recognized

Gary

My neighbor from when I was about fourteen—
he lived directly next door
he used to play football with me and my friends
he took me fishing often—
he loved to fish—
and he didn’t like going alone

He didn’t really have friends either

He and his wife Nancy—
were from upstate New York
they’d moved to the Atlanta area for work—
and I assume—
to eat grits 🙃

Gary was older than me—
about twenty five
I was fourteen…
and still missing the toilet when I pissed

I looked up to him—
like a big brother

The last time I saw him—
was a few months after my friend’s funeral
not long after that—
he and Nancy moved away—
I think back to New York—
if I remember right

There we were—
side by side—
on that bench

I spoke to him…

He turned toward me—
but he didn’t know who I was

So I told him—
reminded him of our past—
the fishing
the football
the neighborhood

Then he remembered…

His eyes lit up…

And then I told him—
that God loved him

His face changed…

He became sad—
started crying

He told me—
his family was very worried about him—
very concerned

And that was it…

I woke up…

End of dream…

I went downstairs—
made coffee—
then breakfast—
in that order

I’ve thought about him all morning…
I prayed for him…

For some reason—
I have the feeling that today—
this very moment—
he’s in a storm

Unless…

maybe it isn’t about him at all…

Maybe it’s about me…

© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved


…….<3~~~<3→†→||→†→<3~~~→†”’ `’.~°.♡♤◇♧\|( -;-_

Memories… like fingerprints… are slowly raising…