forty-two thousand feet.

There’s something so fickle about a feeling; ever fleeting, one moment it’s there, another gone. I am an adventurer, exploring foreign lands, exploring foreign planes, searching. A curious searching, one different to all those prior. A search akin to what an eye subconsciously seeks in the lazy space of a painting. This search, like all … Continue reading forty-two thousand feet.

The death march.

This is the age of the individual, Instagram, narcissism, butt-implants, materialism and a consumeristic mentally; welcome to the 21st century. We march forward without hesitation, toward a cliff, of which at the bottom, organised Human life does not exist. We've turned up the thermostat, we've deadbolted the doors from the inside and flushed away the … Continue reading The death march.