the dark side
It's like falling in love, but more useful. The gutrush and nights without sleep. The waking with intention, the rushing of tiny breakthroughs that surge you off your seat and into the screen.As if I ever meant to leave. As if you could swear off these things like one abstains from alcohol, sex and stupid fun. I am mouth open free falling and pacing. I am ageing faster but somehow living more. The romance of a creation feels like some devine force is present, even through the frustration and the angst and the screaming.Did God come up with existenstialism in his underwear?Is enlightenment less sleep, more coffee, and a head full of ideas?

so that you know
I want to]peel back responsibilities like wet bathers soaked in chlorine. I want to connect like punchs, like phonelines, like batteries, end to end. I want to do more than request, respond, resolve. I want to recline, with you, who save me, all of you. Spend hours lying in the shade as the land is seared.These hands are not grabbing but holding. If they were empty, I would open arms wide and embrace.

so long
It had been so long that we'd imagined these chasms, in places where only ditches exist. Skirts hitched we leaped across them. Retrieving childhood games in service of salvation.Under a big cloud sky we are reminded of that old place where the breeze blows 200 mill

if all is inconsequential
In these times of upheaval my heart does not go wanting. My dreams oscillate between vibrant disturbance and gentle placation. I sink into these waterholes until waking finds me somewhere between dampness and refreshment. I lay staring at the ceiling, trying to remember how to floa

comfort and control
It has been so long now, I have only memories. My skin no longer recollects. In dreams these things seem distant, hollow, as though listening to a voice on a long distance phone line.I am a photocopy of my desire. Endless reproductions of fantasy grow faded and less defined. My senses become measured and restrained. I find abandonment in books and ideas and such sensible things.The horizon speaks only of solitude and independence.There is little comfort in control.