Shit! Fuck! no. The small internal monologue runs counter to outward appearance. Shit! Fuck! damnit. someone let him wander off on his own, silly bugger. The tree is huge; a monster. Beside it my father looks tiny; green shirt and purple vest helping him stand out against its bulk. Shit! Fuck! there’s mum, there’s auntie […]Read More As Strong as Death
[Part 1] Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani? … We are lonely things. Lonely creatures. Just look at those around you: the songs they sing, the things they weep at, the dancing, the laughter. We are a species that craves connection and community. We crave it. And yet it eludes us. If you don’t believe me, go […]Read More loneliest number.
Lo; and the thicket heavy with frost shifts. Now is the moment of promise; a moment in doubt. To progress is to die; to flee, the same but slower. The rabbit holds breath; the fox is still. The thicket; shifts. Blood on snow; a beginning.Read More This Hilltop (and no other)
All minds are solitary in existence. … It’s what makes love so powerful. And makes horror so real. All minds, Horatio, are alone. All minds. All of them. All. … Fuck. … We comprehend our own comprehension, like a set of off-set mirrors allowing a glimpse of the back of your own head. We apprehend […]Read More *yorick not included.
And thus the world wobbles on its way. Wobble, wobble. Wobble, wobble. Wobble. Wobble. hey. Sometimes things don’t go as you’d hoped. Sometimes, they do; but not the way you’d planned. Sometimes, well, it doesn’t really matter does it? Because whatever you thought is irrelevant in the face of what is. The storming momentum of […]Read More i shall wear victory.
Show don’t tell, they say. How can I relay the sour, trembling pain that rises from the gut up through successive clenched innards until finally, burning, it claws at your throat? The mind goes numb in an attempt to escape the shadows of external realities cast therein; fleeing, particularly, the terrible knowledge that it has […]Read More this poverty of mine.
Recently I wrote on a scrap of paper, and later on Twitter, something that cuts quite close to my heart. It was a spur of the moment scrawl amid other note taking I made as I worked through the opening pages of Augustine’s Confessions. Not the first time I’ve picked it up, but it felt […]Read More staring at the sky.