Saturday, 22 November 2014

Ever Yours

For a long while now I’ve suspected that connection with another person, real connection simply isn’t possible. I’m curious if you disagree? Although I suspect you feel as I do in this, as you do in so many other things. So tell me is it possible to truly know another person. Is it even a worthwhile pursuit. Yours is the only opinion i’ll trust. the only point of view that holds even the faintest of interest. I find my diversions, as I always do, but the days are long in this great place. 

I dearly hope you’ll write soon.

Tuesday, 1 July 2014

Oh My Creator

'I had nowhere else. No, I had no one else. Is that not the saddest of all Creator. I'm again cast on your baron shores.
Futile. All futile. What dreams I had of my mate. Of another being looking into these eyes, upon this face, and recoiling not.
But how could that happen, for the monster is not in my face, but in my soul. I once thought that if I was like other men I would be happy and loved. But a malignancy has grown you see. From the outside in. And this shattered visage merely reflects the abomination that is my heart. Oh my Creator, why did you not make me of steel and stone, why did you allow me to feel. I would rather be the corps I was than the man I am.

Go ahead. Pull the trigger, It would be  a blessing'

Friday, 27 June 2014

Section 17

And we hereby commit these souls to the deep.
Were at their last, give all to the land of the living.
May they remembered forever, until there is no more pain.
No more suffering; and the abyss shall give up her dead and return them to us.

Wednesday, 18 June 2014


Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered. The harder the conflict the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly. It is darkness only that gives everything value. Especially life.

Tuesday, 27 May 2014

The First Law of Thermodynamics

The First Law of Thermodynamics 'No energy in the universe is created, and none is destroyed' Therefore; every bit of energy inside us, every particle, will go on to be a part of something else. Maybe live as a dragon fish, a microbe, maybe burn in a supernova 10 billion years from now. And every part of us now was once a part of some other thing. A moon, a storm cloud, a Mammoth, a Monkey. Thousands and thousands of other beautiful things that were just as afraid to die. We gave them new Life. A good one I hope.

Sunday, 18 May 2014

Drumbeat of Constant Input

I often wonder if I should have been born in another time. Ours is an era of destraction, it's a punishing drumbeat of constant input. This cocofney which follows us into our homes and into ours beds. Which seeps Into our souls. For a long time there was only one poultice for my raw nerve endings. So in my less productive moments I begin to wonder if I had just been born when it was a little quieter out there. Might I have been more focused. A more fully realised person. I'ld want some of the wonders of modernity (of course), just before everything got amplified.

Saturday, 26 April 2014

A Futile Pursuit

We have spilled much ink, you and I, in our discussion of human connection. And we are no closer to understanding than we were when the correspondence began. I often fear as if I’m standing on one side of a wide chasm, shouting across, and wondering if the response I hear comes from you, or if it is my own voice echoing back to me.

It seems to me on my side of the canyon, the search for unity with another is the font of much of the world’s unhappiness. I watch as Watson, eager as ever to extract some meaning from the prevailing social conventions, endures a series of curated mating rituals. It seems to me that she is incrementally less content each time she returns from one.

I conduct myself as though I am above matters of the heart, chiefly because I have seen them corrode people I respect, but in my candid moments I sometimes wonder if I take the stance I do because love, for lack of a better word, is a game I fail to understand, and so I opt not to play.

After all, if I truly had the purity of all my convictions, I wouldn't regret so many of the things I have done.
Nor would I persist against so many of my better instincts in this correspondence. I find you a challenge, one that in spite of all you've done continues to stimulate, and so the conversation, futile though it may finally be, continues, and we are left to wonder - have we simply failed to find the answers to the questions that preoccupy us or can they not be answered at all. Fortunately, for both of us, the world always presents the next diversion. The next elaborate Distraction  

Monday, 21 April 2014


What you pursue are words; but their meanings are vague at best, insubstantial,transient. Without mutual comprehension of our values and selves, their definitions are ambiguous and what they stand for, lost.

Thursday, 10 April 2014

To Know That You Are Desirable

For what a thing it must be, to be in love. To know that you are desirable in another's eyes. What joy that must bring. What happiness.

Thursday, 3 April 2014

Cloud Atlas

Perhaps you are right. Perhaps anything I or anyone else try and change will be insignificant. It may never amount to anything more than a small droplet in a  vast infinite ocean.

Yet what is an ocean if not a multitude of drops.

Thursday, 27 March 2014

John Merrick

Tis true my form is something odd
But blaming me is blaming God.
Could I create myself anew,
I would not fail in pleasing you.
If I could reach from pole to pole,
Or grasp the ocean with a span,
I would be measured by the soul.
The minds the standard of the man.

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Someone That Might Become More

I have often found, in my case, that it is a rare thing to find friends, true friends. Rarer still, someone that might become more. There are those that do of course, and they are better for it. And though the world in all it's spite might try and stump out their love, they shine with it, brightly. like the sun.

I have had enough of the darkness....... If you'd show me the sun.

Sunday, 23 March 2014


Gida, I have come to say goodbye to you properly. I've been thinking about you. About when you were small. You were so lifely you could run as swiftly as the wind. You were like quicksilver. But then before I knew it, you stopped running here and there and everywhere. You became still. At 12 years old, you had the calmness and stillness of a fine woman. What children you would have produced. What joy that would have brought to all of us.

Dear child, Gida, you are not gone because you are always in my heart. They say a man must love his sons more. But a man can be jealous of his sons. And his daughter can always be the light in his heart. I know very well that you are with the Gods. But I will wait here a while. And if you want to come and talk to me then come and talk. And I will gently stroke your long and beautiful hair once again, with my peasant hand.