I chose my path for safety not for passion, because the abstraction of mediocrity was less scary then jumping off the ledge, aiming for the sea but landing on black rocks of hamartia. I’m in the arms of someone who loves me, and I’m not sad, but I’m not happy either. I’m looking over their … Continue reading “Quit psychology and become a writer”.
Each pulsing eccentricity of human life, a coloured brushstroke on the canvas of existence, colours of all shade and tonality combining to reflect their own vitalities of animation. If you step closer and examine the design, the intricacies appear sporadically frantic, disorganised, clumsy, a collateral splattering of imperfections, the ghosts of indecision. However, stepping away … Continue reading If Life Was A Canvas
Standing still on the platform, the train speeds past me in a blur of indiscernible colours- My eyes sting from the rushing air but I refuse to close them; am I stubborn or brave? People mill around the station, hurrying around, talking in a buzz, I pick out odd words of broken conversations- like trying … Continue reading A metaphor for life- The Train
Typed words on a cracked screen passing between clammy hands, Words, feelings, emotions, don’t all make it across the gap- Lost into the abyss of air between them Some things are lost in translation. But squeals of laughter running through butterflied gardens are clear, Smiles spent in summer air against a backdrop of endless days, … Continue reading Lost In Translation
Dark brown eyes open for the first time and wrinkled hands clutch her small body closely, weathered lips make empty promises. Small hands are desperately reaching out into the unknown, grappling at cold air because he left. No letters made of ink graced any page, no echoed voices rang through any phones, no old hands … Continue reading Empty
I miss what they might have been, what was not yet. I miss the smiles we never shared, the laugh I never heard, the way your eyes might have crinkled, and the colour your hair might have shone in the sun. I miss the adventures we didn’t have, the late nights we never stayed up … Continue reading Can you miss someone you hardly knew?
When you are in that moment it surrounds you with a clear brilliance, A clarity that’s so enriched with detail you could never remember it perfectly, But it’s so bright that you don’t believe that you could ever forget it. In that moment you can believe that you’re immortal, that it’s infinite- Your brain can’t … Continue reading The Memories of Words
Rolling over me like sun warmed waves on tropical beaches, an enveloping silence wraps around my brain. Protective. I dream of nothing, no thoughts, no sounds. For a while I don't even exist - removed from time and place - in my own internal restorative limbo. The indescribable feeling of being nothing consumes me and … Continue reading Goodnight.
Chapter four The week my father was home passed so quickly I thought I had only imagined that he had been here. My Grandmother had been preoccupied with writing letters and organising my entry into polite society – although a little late for my age (19) she still felt it was necessary and proper, but … Continue reading Continuation of story part two
This is the end of the untilted experimental introduction and the following chapter. I met the cart where the path met the gravel in front of the house, just in time for my father to jump down and bring me into his arms. I breathed in his familiar smell and brushed my nose against … Continue reading Continuation of a story