I wouldn’t hazard a guess between the two poles of neurochemistry or intradimensional (i.e. spiritual) resonance but I expect that it lies in this spectrum, somewhere, and perhaps in both (or several) places simultaneously. Some days I believe in spirit, sometimes in blind genetic compulsion but today is all that really ever matters and right […]
I have, it seems, made something of a life in words and the variously disambiguating compositional artefacts of language or thought (and other such conceptual melodies) with which we each and all make our ways and narrative meanings in or as this world, but I have not found happiness. There is an irremediable darkness here […]
Bravery is not the absence of fear, it is the ability to act in spite of fear. Only a fool knows no fear and were it not that we demonise emotional experience in the ways we all do and as a function of the constructive paranoia that binds us all into one writhing mass of […]
You might think it’s about being loved for how you look. But what you truly need is to be loved for who you are—beneath the image, before the performance, outside the frame. Only one of these forms of love endures. And only you can sense which one matters. This isn’t something you understand by reading […]
If other people must always and to some extent only ever be ideas to any of us, how can those ideas ever love us back without the whole thing devolving into intricate games of haunted, hollow and narcissistic self-deception? What, in essence, is the meta-ethical solution here? Is there one? I suspect there is, but […]
It seems that the greatest love stories could only ever be tragedies. We can not, it seems, help but be fascinated by catastrophe as some congenital cognitive or cultural programming and visceral predisposition to regret that we can hardly ignore but often enough also fail to acknowledge. More than this, though – we are each […]
Unread letters, like forgotten dreams acquire as much literary value in their obscurity as they do an equivalent degree of emotional gravitas. There was a time when people wrote thoughtful, reflective and intelligent letters to each other and in all the playfully-constructive ambiguities of language and meaning there sought to explore, discover and redefine themselves […]
We have all and for so very long defined ourselves by a conceptual difference and distance we now accept as necessary that we fail to see that the loneliness and isolation this exclusion brings has become the one thing that unites us all. It is as though we seek to experience and know the world […]
It is not all but certainly many if not most men that seek to make little gods of themselves. In so doing, they seek to be praised and treasured but when this fails to occur they generally set about conquering their world, their families and (the extended family of) their nations as some immodest compensation […]
It is kind of hard to believe that there’s someone out there for all of us, somewhere. It’s a nice idea and I even think I know who my “someone” is, regardless that I will for many diverse and complicated reasons never meet her. Perhaps the necessary condition for there to even be the possibility […]
We never think that we know what love is anywhere near so much as when it feels like it has abandoned us and that, that is the mystery: we must lose what we love to realise just how truly and deeply we loved it.
My love is a marionette. Dancing on threads that she never controls or owns and like blindfolds in darkness, that I never know. Life’s theatre of pleasure is a labyrinth of pain and were it not that we all refine in game and grammar such intricate strategies of haunted self-deception as pure aspirations to continuing […]
Daedelus Kite 