The pain of loss.

The mind has a way of tricking you into believing untruths, like that you’ve properly processed an emotion so strong that is left a mark deep on your soul…and every now and again its head peaks above the surface of your consciousness and it grips you. It holds you and it squeezes, it squeezes with such force that your entire being is stricken with pain. You must learn to sit in this pain for that is the secret to it’s overcoming. To sit, to become familiar with this discomfort is how you become comfortable within discomfort. To run, to avoid, to distract so as to not feel the discomfort is tantamount to cowardice.


Kindling to a spark, spark to an ember. A smouldering ember that I thought was lost, this ember, as ember blaze before, burns with hot fiery curiosity and desire. The ember that ignites my creative flame, I think has returned back once again. How can you miss something for which you’ve never had before? …a paradox.

Twenty four.

I really like being twenty-four.

Eighteen to twenty-two was a roller-coaster, a crazy ride full of ups and downs, and in the background, an uptempo soundtrack did play. A soundtrack which played, spinning on the record player, until finally reaching the end. No more sound played.

Sunshine, dismay, realisation and growth were the hallmark of the year at age twenty-three. Twenty-three taught me how to sort and filter, and this was not achieved without pain; this pain was a gift, albeit a blessing in disguise. This pain taught me value, it taught me strength, and for this pain I am grateful.

Twenty four has only just begun and yet, Graduation, with distinction…this moment, distinct for all other moments in my time. This moment is but a manifestation my belief in something better, discipline and sheer force of will. A self-overcoming in the face of significant odds; I escaped the self-imposed prison.

Twenty-four has me excited for the next 20 more; the start of a tremendous adventure. I’ve undergone my rite-of-passage, and now I am ready for another 365 x 24.

I really like being twenty-four.

You are a work of art.

Art is neither good nor bad, it just is. It is a unique creation, unlike anything else that has ever existed. To judge, to compare, you must judge and compare in reference to something. We only know the light because of the dark; we only know the hot because of the cold; we only know the good because of the bad.

We judge ourselves in reference to the culturally propagated image, the ideal body, the ideal woman, the ideal man…the archetype of which you believe to be the epitome. This ideal exists only in your mind, and a different ideal exists in the minds of all others. Haven’t you heard? Everybody likes different things.

You cannot compare artworks, for they are fundamentally not the same. To judge an artwork, a unique creation, is madness. Each person holds a unique ideal for what something should be like, and when each person gazes upon an artwork, each person will experience the same objective entity in a subjective, and unique way. To judge art, to compare art, to judge in reference to the unique ideal that you hold, or to compare two artworks which are not the same, is madness.

Apples and oranges, peaches and plums, don’t compare yourself to anyone because you, you are the only you, you’re the only one. 

Black holes.

Nothing can escape the gravitational pull of self-centeredness; nobody can escape your selfish stranglehold. I watch my comfort and happiness creep toward your event horizon, you are a black hole. Your self-centeredness drags everything inward, never to escape. Your vibrational frequency repels me, an early warning. You must remain at an arm’s length, for if I dare to venture closer once again I will inevitably be swallowed whole.

You can spot a selfish person easily, well, at least most of the time. Be careful of their words and actions, for these speak volumes…this is your early warning system to protect against the destruction in which these people leave behind them. Remember, you should hold your hand out to those who are drowning, but you do not have to drown with them.


On relaxation.

Relaxation is not something that comes naturally to me. I often take things too far, this is an important fact. My self-control is a precarious creature; a turn of the winds increase the volume of liquid to my lips – the cells inside me vibrate joyously. An unnatural hedonism has swept over me, a resting point alongside the beaten and trodden path. A deserved pause in time, akin to a drop of liquid atop parched lips. Relaxation is an art, a learned skill, a skill for which a users manual does not exist…trust me to require such a thing.

I lie back on the floor, drink in hand, music in my ears and presence in my heart.

what a feeling.

Modern-day hero.

I want to be a modern day hero; what a grandiose claim!

I want the white picket fence, with two lil’ monsters to boot,

I want to be the shoulder to cry on, and the callused hands to rely on,

I want to take on each challenge as a team because two minds are better than one,

I want to be Mr. Dependable and speak only words of support and encouragement,

I want to experience the breadth of human emotion, expressing myself fully,

I want to be the calm within the storm, solid in the face of adversity,

I want to walk an adopted pooch along the beach, fingers interlocked,

I want my words to reflect my inner transparency; honesty is key,

I want my actions to reflect only my principles, even if not in my best interests,

I want to selflessly improve my character, to benefit all those who interact with me,

I want to be a modern-day hero, such a shame that this is considered an ideal,

I dream of the day that the modern-day hero is not but a hero, but all men.