Tuesday, 16 October 2018


Slowly, decisively, his hands moved around to her slightly arched back, his lips one centimetre in front of hers. It was now, would never be never, that things finally started to happen. A week had moved past his eyes, his life moving at the speed of sound, but right now time simply slowed to a perfectly beautiful crawl.

He had desires, needs, wants within the world, which could only, would only, ever be met by a certain type of woman. He desired confidence, strength, that something we all looked for and cherished if found. He wanted to languish a little, to feel his worth suffering in front of such a woman, which is what led him here.

They say things happen when you least expect them to, from nowhere arrives a spectacle, which simple removes one’s heart and replaces it with blind lust and mild fever. It’s okay, it’s accepted, as long as the heart eventually catches up to the scene of depraved destruction. To have, to hold, to delve, to grasp, to admonish, to taste again is all that’s needed within this universe.

We all know it, he knew it, she damn well would know it, that the world did not spin on wealth, cars, houses, or the clothes that we wear. It, instead, spins on the desires of soft skin, of tender lips, of the hips that pleased and lips that whispered certain things in the middle of the day. It’s the wanton feelings, the thoughts of taking, of having, of enveloping happiness within. He wanted, he needed, he would have and that, of course, was that.

His mind flickered through his thoughts, as her hot breath, her shaking body, her glistening eyes, simply played the tune of his song. He lifted his head, looking into her stunning eyes, as his smile appeared, and hands gently unravelled the soft lingerie bow behind her. He didn't wish to rush. Not for a second. There was time. There was always time, for this, to listen, to understand, to appreciate her thoughts expressed by the way they’d move. Together.

She had an incredibly mischievous smile which, of course, was one of the many aspects that attracted him. He didn't want an easy life, a strife less life, as he wanted fire. That fireball, that entered the room with so much energy, that sassy woman, the one that took no crap from anyone, or anything. He wanted the heat, didn't care if he managed to get burnt, as the scars would live within him forever. Life was for living, for taking what you could, when you could, with that one person that kept the fire burning all the way through the night.

He glanced down, as the frail lingerie fell to the floor, his hands returning to gently caress her hips. She was absolutely perfect, for him, no-one else. He could feel the adrenaline rush through his body, as he tried to control himself, obviously failing as she stared into his heavily dilated eyes. Probably, at this point in time, glistening like crazy as his body failed his attempts to remain calm.

So close, still so far, no words required as he knew that he could often say something stupid at such a tender time. The early moments, the flattering comments, the honest intentions and more simply wanting him to be with her. Not just for this moment, for the other moments, the many moments and future. He wanted to wake, in the middle of the night, months from now, filled with desire and feelings for her. He wanted to kiss her shoulder, he wanted to please her at every single moment and, above all, kiss her whether she needed to be kissed or not.

He gave in, he finally threw away his restraint, cast aside any small doubt of being able to resist, thus stay away from her. He didn't even remember why he wanted to waste time on such endeavours.  Gently pressing his lips to hers he felt her soft skin. So soft. So unbelievably soft beyond words. His body instantly responded as they moved with ease. He could kiss this damn woman forever, if this moment was any indication for the future. His hands moved, one holding her lower back and the other rising to press her against him. Her chest, meeting his, sending even more desire into his blood. If he were any other man, he might be overwhelmed by this moment, the crashing animal desire pushing to have, to take, but he wasn't that man. He knew what would happen, he knew that there was time to take, never to hasten, as there would be other moments for such frivolous quick natured physical enactments.

Instead, trying to involve his head, his heart, his body, and possibly soul into such things, he allowed a small amount of lust to rest within him. The wall, behind them, was met as he lifted her. Her legs wrapping around his waist, tightly. His arms let go as he grasped her hands, sending them outwards, both pressed against each other, his hips arched forward to keep her exactly where she was. He tasted her again, her lips breaking down any defences he knew that he’d kept in place. Each longing kiss forcing him into a harder situation, a place that he surely wished to reside.

Finally, longingly, he gave in as he let go of her hands, placing one arm behind her back to steady her, taking her over to the bed. The beautiful sheets met their bodies as he placed her down. Kissing, feeling, his hands where they needed to be, he heard and watched as her lips opened, the slight moaning escaping from her body. He wanted this, needed this, had waited a lifetime to have his desires met. He wasn't that complicated, as his body and mind were still that of a simple man, a physically strong man, a man filled with desire for many, many things.

He lifted her left leg, as his lips kissed, tongue playing, as their eyes met. He smiled, as her face simply stated that it was time for him to have her. Slowly, the tip of his tongue moving from the top of her leg, all the way down, he met her desire and… .

Monday, 15 October 2018

Various 01

Here are some of the posts that weren't finished or I decided not to post. (Please ignore the errors)

In life we have these things called good days, bad days, sensible days and, of course, loving days. Each of them, every second, no matter the trials and tribulations, are ever so precious. Those moments, the valuable seconds, all to be remembered and smiled upon.

Then, within those seconds, there’s you. Beautiful, stupendous you, marvellously complex you. It’s ever so easy, daunting, a task within itself, to be surrounded by the pure fireball of thought that’s you. You alone, just you, are what makes the world tick that little bit easier.

No matter the compliment, no matter how obvious my eyes make the words seem, there’s the constant denial that you’re not perfect. You call, you state, you cry, you get cross, exclaiming that you have real faults but I declaim otherwise. Those supposed faults are you, making you the person that you are. The real person. Imagine a world full of perfect people, for a few seconds, then realise how boring and silly that world would be. The scars of life, the memories, the small little motions, make you absolutely perfect to someone such as myself.

Each time you speak, whatever words arrive from your heart, I cannot help but want to kiss you, hold you and more.

The day fades, the voices fall away, that congestion of thoughts and vehicles vanish to allow the clarity of relaxation invade your thoughts. This is the moment, the second, another hour before I finally allow myself to escape the living world. I’m going to dream and, for the many hours, I’m going to dream of you and only you.

Maybe we’ll fly, maybe you’ll fade into the backdrop of my colour filled adventure, or hopefully, we’ll endeavour to stay forever while holding hands. Flying as fast as the wind will allow, hands touching the long grass, feeling the dream against of hearts and minds. Either way, whichever way, it’s with you and that’s what’s right.

Ever closer, the words and thoughts starting to drag, a few seconds more and I’ll finally fall. Fall for you, fall into the void, the ever-present imaginary world of our own making. This time we’ll be floating upon the softest candy filled creation, the place where sweet wishes are made. Maybe not, maybe you’d prefer to be somewhere else.

The room I’m sitting in is very small, possibly the smallest room that I’ve ever been in, despite being here many, many times before. This room, unlike your room, is my very own mind. It’s quiet, deftly quiet, the kind of quiet that people spend their entire lifetime trying to find.

Normally I wouldn’t be in here, at this moment, as I’d be out there, doing things and probably smiling. It’s a shame, a tragedy, as I once again reside within the nothingness of not actually knowing what I’m going to do. To others being lonely is a horrendous feeling, cutting, suffocating, while still carrying on with their lives. For me it’s all about moments. I’ll be perfectly fine, with no emotion at all, then a wave of overpowering feelings will strike me down wherever I am.

I know, I know, it’s odd to hear a man state such things but it’s all true. You’re beautiful, amazing, stunning in so many ways. Ego aside, all defences down, I could happily admit that to the entire world without hesitation. Heck, without you, I don’t even have that ego to set aside if you’re not in my life.

I was wandering around in the world, stumbling, replicating the same old same old day in, the same day out. My purpose wasn’t directed, wasn’t focused, until that one solitary day that everything changed. I was there, sitting there, taping away on a keyboard at the usual café of choice. The obvious beverage being ingested in order to concentrate on the words, those words, that simply failed me the moment you appeared.

I can play it cool, aloof even, but something broke within in, something melted, reducing me to a heart beating idiot that couldn’t find those words. Me, this guy, the smooth façade failing right when I needed it most. You did notice my slight stare, the awkward moment with my mouth slapping against the floor. It happens, it can happen.

Composure regained control and I continued to tap away at the keyboard and, as you asked for directions to such and such a place, with the answer not appearing, I quickly searched and found the place you were looking for. A quick conversation, a couple of laughs later, maybe even a long held smile, we sat together and exchanged world ideals. We ridiculed everything, laughed at the world at large, reminiscing about what has been, had been, would be.

It was a beautiful moment, a bonding of two strangers, the kindness flowing between us and the world. I knew that I could stare at you all day but that would have been rude. I even told you so. You replied that I could, that I should, that I would be allowed to do so later on a proper date. I accepted, picked the date and time, with the rest being history.

The thing about beauty, that we both knew, is that no matter how beautiful the external seems the internal beauty can abolish any of those tempting smiles. Beauty needs to be all the way through to the core and, between us, we had enough beauty to raise the world to a new and exciting place. There’s that ego again, jumping in, making me say silly things. Match a 5 to a 10 and you get 15.

There’s something wrong, within me. It’s been slow to form, over a couple of years, but I know that it’s there as I can feel it getting stronger and stronger. It’s that old friend, anger. Not to be confused with your long lost friend loneliness or any of the other negative emotion. I might use the word negative but, at times, anger might not actually be as negative as we believe. It can fuel a person, fire them into a frenzy of action and as long as that action is positive, then fair enough.

I’m not an angry person. At all. Not even remotely. But once angered it boils. With me there’s two types. Type one is the cold instant logical anger where I literally blow my top while still remaining completely rational, sane, but with venom in my instantly calculated words. The other is the slow kind. Creeping, undermining, placing me into situations and those thoughts that simply do not belong. We’ve all been angry, we’ve all lost it, but this isn’t me. Never has been.

I could list a few reasons for being angry, or feeling the bubbling undercurrent, but maybe it’s just as simple as turning a tap. Things build in life. The crisps down the side of your car seat. Your electric bill. Taxes and more. Instead of going on and on and being all super-duper intense, using long words that even I don’t understand, I’ll find a solution.

The last time I was angrier than Superman with no clean pants, all those many, many years back, I turned to beating a bag with my legs, knees, elbows and fists. It did wonders. It also meant blood, sweat, shouting, chewing of biscuits and more. It was amazing. An actual outlet for anger. When I wrote the Angel blog post (Which I’m sure that you’ve read. Haven’t you?) I could literally imagine every single moment. Every fist, punch, blade impact and more. It’s intense stuff writing. You have to be in the right mode, the appropriate mood, so maybe I should channel this new anger into multiple avenues. There’s also the gym but that’s normal.

The reason why I’m writing this, other than to get views, reads, free crisps (But not from the side of your car) as well as opening up a little, is that we all have emotional stuff going on. Maybe not. Hopefully not. But if you do what is your channel of expression?  How do you vent or release? It’s important to never, ever, keep certain emotions locked inside. Sure, we don’t want people going nutso if they don’t get their double espresso latte supreme mocho dairy free with flake, cream and pom poms coffee, but we should find sensible, safe methods of rescue.

Have a think. What emotion is currently starting to control you? What can you do to stop it. Heck boredom might even be an emotion which means that we should find something to cure that.

Happy hunting (Not literally).


We've all heard and seen that character of immense power, the pants over the trousers, the flying faster than a bullet superhero. He’s strong, fast, quite intelligent and, at the same time, has a fallible heart that simply wants to care. It's his ultimate weakness. Not the kryptonite, not magic, it's his heart that can destroy him.

Although leaping a building in a single bound, could be seen to be very impressive, in the real world such things are not possible. A mere man, of flesh and crushable bone, is nothing even close to the super man above. Maybe. Possibly. Who knows.

Men are born kicking, screaming, moaning about the lack of a remote control by their bed and more. We’re ever so cute, saying a few words, thus starts the journey to mandom (Not actually a word).  We’re full of bravado (Another word could be used), beating of chests, with words such as ‘brah (We wish)’, ‘dude’, ‘mate’ and all the other words involved with men being men. Banter.

Then, suddenly, we realise that life isn't just about dudes, women’s bits, having a beer, fighting with bears, wing men, silly dance music (Boom, boom, boom ohhh yeeaaah) and other ‘man’ things. It’s far more. We’re suddenly thrust (don’t be rude) into the real world. With nappies, late nights, early mornings, the tears, the tenderness, the arguments, the love making, the ever-changing landscape of young minds and far, far further than we might currently know.

Life arrives for all of us. Men, at some point, do need to grow (‘up?’), to shape themselves into a new person. Responsibility is a beautiful thing. Rewarding. That responsibility, of course, also involves accepting that we can make mistakes. It happens. Oh, it happens. A man making a mistake? Never, ever. Can’t happen. No way. I deny such things. I jest. One of the earliest, as well as biggest, things to come to terms with is admitting that you’re wrong. You can fail. You can make mistakes. The admittance, the difficult part, is accepting and then apologising. Even when it might not be all your fault.

Say it isn't so? It is, sorry, I apologise, but it is. Me personally? My fault is being far too caring. (Don’t laugh). It’s not a flaw. It’s perfectly natural to have a good heart. I say good but often, when thinking about it, it’s really a very stupid heart. It never learns, it hardly ever adapts, then goes blindly rushing in. Not at all times, as I can be selfish (Oh no, really?).

I suppose that’s what being human is about. Admit the weaknesses, construct for them, resolve for them, adapt where you can, improve and apologise to people as well as yourself. Men are not perfect (Stop laughing) but we’re now living in a world where men don’t really know what they’re supposed to be. I'm from the years long gone so my values are engrained within me. Be kind, be charming, care, use kind words, never attack, resolve, compromise and love. That doesn't make me soft, as I can and will stand up for what I believe in. All of my decisions are based on what I know which means, when compromising, that compromise depends on the situation, what I understand, and the details explained to me. That’s the important part. Listening to another person’s point of view. It can make all the difference.

One of the biggest failures of men, of man, at times myself, is that we don’t listen. When it’s time to listen I really, really do listen. I have to listen. You must listen to the opinion and thoughts of the people that you care about. It’s vital, critical, the tools required for that operation that can heal or harm.

Anyway, ranting done, it’s time to conclude in some random fashion that wraps everything up nicely. Oh the joy of writing where you attempt to get the/a point across.

Although I know that I cannot run that fast, or leap a mighty building, or bend iron bars with my small finger, I realise that I'm never going to be a superman. Never, ever, not even once. But then I step away from that thought. I compromise, I rationalise my thoughts, digest further information and conclude. Superman’s greatest weakness is his heart. He is, however, proud of such a thing. Everyone knows his weakness, his enemies aware, his friends, his loved ones and more. Even his dog knows. He’s never going to change. The writers will never change that.

So, to finally conclude. I share something with Superman, which all men should share and that weakness, which is also his greatest actual strength, is his fallible, stupid, gigantic, ego-less, beating, breaking and loveable heart.

In such things, I might even hint, that I'm a Superman (Stop laughing).

Friday, 12 October 2018


Daniel placed his bag onto the side table, just after inspecting it for dust or stains. He was that type of person, methodical, precise, unwavering in the depths to which he would inspect certain things. Possibly an obsessive-compulsive person but, getting him to admit that, would never be forthcoming.  The table, clean, in order and as it should be, would thus comply with his requirements. Some would say that he was an odd person but others, those close to him, would trust him with absolutely everything. Their lives, their fortune, their misery filled conversations and more.

The room, as he glanced at the various fittings and colours, was somewhat stale and drab. Possibly due to the number. That number many feared for some unknown, odd, silly reason. To him numbers meant nothing, other than to calculate of create statistical odds and ends. To others they meant everything. He’d read many books, old and young alike, with the older books fixated with old wife’s tales and furious notions of other realms and fantasies. He, however, believed in what he could see, touch and experience.

Daniel, looking serious, walked around the bed to where the chair sat. A large room, three main areas, with the usual bathroom tacked alongside the bedroom. The chair wasn't as light as he’d liked but, being honest with himself, it probably wasn't supposed to be moved. He could see that, from the carpet indentations, as he tilted the furniture to make it easier to drag. He knew that the cleaner would wonder what on earth he was doing but, by then, he would be long gone.

The chair, sat directly between rooms, straddled the middle of his hired space. Out of breath, by just a little, he walked over to the usual complimentary snack and tea area, opening a bottle of water to quickly quench the thirst growing within. That thirst. That gloriously gaping thirst that consumed him four years previous, hardly a thing for a small bottle of water to resolve, but nonetheless this was why he was here.

Forgetting his usual ethic of cleanliness, he wiped his lips against the cuff of his suit jacket, aware, knowing, of what he must now do. It had taken the four years to reach this place, the study, the absolute acuity of success, which meant that even if he weren't ready, it was now or never. He’d wished ‘never’ hadn't found him. He wished a lot of things. But the wishes were never, ever, answered.

He balanced himself on the chair’s arm, wondering if he really should do what he was about to do, but such talk was fool’s talk. Images flashed into his mind, exploding, ushering his calm into a state that he despised. He hated losing control. He tried to ignore the impulses of life but after the events, all those years previous, he’d be damned if anyone, or thing, would get away with what they did.

Gaining strength from the hurtful images, his mind spinning, he fell into the chair and started to relax. He’d prepared, he’d practised to a point, even tried on multiple occasions, but failure ensured knowledge and this was the absolute place for such things. He closed his eyes, breathing in, in such a way to control his heart, eventually feeling the calm and control take control of him. Such things were not allowed within this place, his world, any more.

With calm, he started. He tensed his back, feeling all the nerves within his spine tingle. His mind started to mimic his spine’s power. He started to feel the heat and, just then, began sending out the pure hatred within his mind. All his negativity, all the pain, the remorse, the hatred within his very blood, escaped his body as his aura reached out into the room. He knew that it might take a while, seeing as such things were not omnipresent, so the books proclaimed. He, however, believed that such things were everywhere. Within hearts, infecting minds, leeching from souls and within every single creation.

As his body pulsed, sending forward such energy that the room, if alive, would run from him, he felt the change almost instantly as the voice appeared.
“How did you find me?” it asked. Daniel would smile, if the rage within allowed such things, but this moment was not for any such thoughts or motions.
“The thirteenth state, the thirteenth street, on the thirteenth floor within the thirteenth room, how could someone not find such a thing!”
“Clever,” came the reply with such a vicious, dripping, vile voice, “What do you want?”

Daniel grasped the seats' arms, fingers turning white as his grip tightened to abnormal levels. He wanted it to suffer, to pay, to feel the emptiness of life as everything is taken from you. He wished for things to return to normal, but he couldn't. That day was gone. Today, on the other hand, was the thirteenth and he had all the power he needed. “Show yourself!” he commanded with a strength he’d not normally be known for.

As his eyes scanned the room, head turning to see each corner, the figure materialised in front of him. A red mist, with eyes. A spectre of immense power and fortitude. He knew that the form varied from one myth to another but this form, more than likely, was the real form not often seen. It must have felt relaxed, that he was of no threat, which he knew might actually be true. Now was the time to forgive himself, to let go of the pain and punishment that had tormented him for the years gone by.

The entity approached, looking at him through its burning red eyes. Daniel had no idea of its thoughts, its motives, or why it even existed, other than to torment. “Do you know why I’m here?” he asked with defiance and as much courage he could find. The study, the tests, the scholars and Holy men’s advice were, of course, not even remotely suitable to face such things. His calm and resolve, on the other hand, were more than enough. If he died on this very day he would be more than happy as he knew who was waiting for him.
The thing, silent, eventually spoke, “You’re here because I took something from you.”
“Yes, you did!”
“…and why should I concern myself with you? I have taken many at their time.”
“It wasn't their time!” spat Daniel with venom.
The entity moved closer, the rage intensifying its eyes to a new shade of red, “How dare you assume you can tell me anything. I shall have your soul!”

Pressing himself into the chair, Daniel could feel his chest start to hurt, the spectre doing exactly what he’d hoped. His soul, his very essence, was being taken from him. He knew that time would then be short, a quick slide to the bottom of life before dying of illness. He didn't wish for this to happen, but he’d held on as long as he could. He’d watched his Wife and Daughter leave the world in such odd circumstances that he needed an answer, and this was what he was looking for. He’d read that humanity were food, a form of energy to these things and, right now, he wasn't about to let that happen.

The force against his chest intensified as the Demon continued to try and take his soul but, as he knew, he’d prepared. For those four years he’d planned, discovered, realised so much about the hidden world, that the sacrifice would be worthwhile. He closed his eyes, concentrated and started to use his greatest rescue. His mind. The demon paused, for a brief second, wondering what was happening but it was too late.

“Where is your soul?” it asked with complete confusion. Daniel opened his dark eyes, smiling, using the intense pain and suffering of the memories to his advantage.
“I gave my soul away to help another. That means there’s an empty space. Care to join me?”

He wasn't a man that made jokes, full of bravado, but there was always room to expand his personality. His spine still pulsing, every nerve fibre in his body acting as a powerful conductor, he could feel his metaphysical chest opening to expose the bodies soul chamber. Vacant, absent, empty from rescuing a small child from evil’s clutches, he jerked his head back against the chair, closing his eyes, then started to scream. The Demon moved forward, into him, concatenated, to be encased once inside.

He concentrated, continuing to use every single ounce of his strength, as the Demon completely entered him, his soul cage closing behind. Gasping for breath, the ordeal finished, he felt something within him, empty for days, suddenly becoming whole again. He knew not what the effects would be, what would happen after this day, but as long as that thing remained trapped and away from causing unnatural, painful deaths of loved ones, he would gladly endure his new life.

His breathing eventually relaxed, sweat pouring from his skin, he looked within himself to feel the soul squirming. It wasn't quite ready to surrender, but he had time. His fingertips let go of the chair, finally, as he felt the odd sensation of power within him. He carried his soul since the very first day of his creation, yet he knew not what to do with it. Now, on this very day, he held within him a soul of a different kind. A dangerous kind yet, for some reason, he wasn't sated. He wanted more. He knew that there were others and, right now, he was ready to move forward.

Today might have been the thirteenth day, on the thirteenth floor, the street, the state, but he immediately made the decision that one wasn't enough. He wanted to devour all thirteen and that’s exactly what he would do.


This morning I awoke to feel nothing. The silence overshadowing everything within my life. I've been here before, many times, a few times, more than that, depending on the second or minute you ask my mind what’s right. Or wrong. A lot of wrong. Some right. Either way, despite the circumstance, what will be is just that.

You've heard plenty of sayings, the memes of life, the instructions that hardly no-one follows despite always agreeing but me, I, this person here, doesn't believe that if it doesn't kill you, you’re made somewhat stronger. We seldom learn from mistakes unless, for the moments where we hit the rock’s bottom, we realise that we’re our own best, worst, enemy. The evil outside, this world we inhabit, comes from within each of us. We blame, we point, we harass and we send out such stupid hatred that the innocent within corrupts. Absolutely.

I want to remain open, we must remain open, but life just isn't giving me, or us, the opportunity to heal and move forward with ease. You reach out, to hold a hand, maybe to simply speak, yet our own safety imperative clouds the view of what other’s require. We are selfish, I thoroughly admit this, to you and every single person out there, with the caveat that I actually do not wish any other person harm.

So what is this feeling, or lack of, that’s growing, or dying, within. It’s that safety feature. It’s within each of us. It stops me feeling, caring, wanting to give a damn, for any other person. You know what I mean. You've probably been there yourself, scratching at the walls of your own mind, asking for rescue and seeking the assistance of another. In the end, when we have done what we've said, we know that realistically we are our own rescue.

What can someone else provide for you? If you’re mentally strong, to a point, you know that involving others into your own sordid recovery is best left alone. If you’re mentally broken, damaged, smashed into small bits, then seek help, involve the correct people, the official people, but until then, recover your own way.

Maybe this is all normal. Maybe I need to repeat those words to myself.  We all need to revert to being a caterpillar at various points of our lives, we do, as long as we eventually return to being a butterfly. I need this transition. We need to do this yet, for some reason, we do see far too many caterpillars out there within this world.

Last night I could feel the doors closing. Slowly, With purpose. I don’t like the feeling, I don’t relish the lack of emotion, but within all of us there’s a thing called a heart. Or a soul. Or our mind. Depends on what we believe, what we understand. Me, I, this person here, realise that it’s all within my mind but the young starry-eyed fool wants the three to be separate. I want to think with my mind, love exclusively with my tremendously caring heart and, finally, embrace you with my soul. Or, in other words, just hold your hand. Such a simple thing yet it’s absent from so many hearts/minds/souls of this land.

I'm not going crazy, as I'm rationally looking within myself, testing, knowing, realising the emotional state that’s happening. Learn this. Hold this. Understand yourself. Avoid the outbursts of pure emotion. We’re no longer children, in ways, able to discern the complexity of the words and thoughts that threaten our stability and poise.

This morning I awoke to feel nothing. The silence being a long-forgotten friend of mine. We chatted, for the smallest of times, exchanging notes concerning how things have changed over the years. I am more mature, I have grown, refined the processes ingrained and defined from outside assistance. It’s amazing to feel, or not feel, the change. We can learn, we can protect ourselves. Believe in your own minds capacity to run for safety, to heal, to become something stronger. I do, despite the process, so see you on the other side of safety. The other side of feeling… nothing.


Please remember that, unless stated, blog posts are works of fiction. (With a sprinkle of experience)

Sunday, 7 October 2018


The app finished installing, the circular notification ending, signalling for her to start the process. Slightly nervous, the apprehension momentarily making her mind wonder if what she was doing was correct, but that quickly moved away. She was ready and, being honest, it was about time.

Sick of the way the world handled itself, the way she’d been treated, it was now or never and by the heavens above, if she couldn't meet the man she wanted, she’d darn well make him instead. Pressing the small icon, the app launched. The screen changed colours a few times, the usual adverts appearing, quickly being ignored, to then settle onto the main view.

Glancing around the screen the options were sparse, almost too simple, but that would suit her just fine. Clutter be gone, simplicity being favoured, she clicked the very large start button that sat just below the usual company logo. The words flew into view, the welcome screen, disclaimer, legal jargon and then the meat of the event arrived. In front of her sat two images, tagged, simply with the words ‘male’, or ‘female’. She paused for the briefest of seconds, wondering, but pressed the ‘male’ button.

She watched the screen change, selecting her desired height, build, complexion, hair, body hair and more. The physical aspects, now being quite important to her, despite surviving a few body shapes that filled her with less desire than she’d like, but it, to her, wasn't all about that. She shook her head, realising that this was an opportunity to not bull crap herself. She could have her cake, the biscuit, the whole damn fridge and by the heavens she would do just that. She clicked the option for a muscular man, defined, by not too big as he’d have to get through doors and not stop to look at himself in shop windows. She was going for a certain look, a desirable look, that complimented her instead of him being the focus of friends or family.

Sure, she could admit it, she wanted to be ever so slightly selfish. After all of them, the liars, the cheaters, the lack of consistency, she’d basically had enough and enough was exactly that. The physical attributes nearly over with, the last screen appeared and she wanted to blush but, instead, her eyes opened that little bit wider. The male anatomy, hardly being the most attractive item in the entire world, was still something she thoroughly enjoyed. At times. When it worked. Or he thought of her needs. Or the many other issues. Too small, too big, odd shapes, she’d experienced a few oddities in her time.

She moved the slider up a few notches, from the average size, to just around eight inches. Comfortable, a good size, something to hold onto, to have, to enjoy and basically do with as she pleased. After all, a woman such as herself simply didn't want to waste time on anything but what she desired. She smiled, even let out a small giggle, as the picture changed size with the slider.

Clicking finish, the page changed to personality. She stared at the options, bemused, wondering if her ideals could ever actually be met, even by a synthetic man. She’d experienced all the hang ups men had. The promises, the words that made her believe, only to feel disrespected, let down, let go of, miss-treated and basically left feeling flat. Or worse. The ones that made her believe that everything was her fault. Manipulation being one of the most disgusting traits above nearly all of them. The lies, the flat out lies. Again, as earlier, she’d had enough of that.

She pressed the buttons, selecting the random words that she approved of, dignity, modesty, correctness, restraint, politeness, tact, gentility, etiquette, the good manners of life and, pressing the one word harder than the rest, respect. She needed to be respected. She wanted respect. No lies. Just love, being treated as she deserved, which in return would be met with her own love and affection. She didn't want the world, she didn't expect everything, but a damn man to hold her in the few moments where the world had left her cold and feeling vulnerable. It wasn't too much to ask.

She pressed the accept button, being met with accent, hovering over Scottish, Irish and well spoken. She’d pick all three if she could so, in a moment of madness, she did. Hopefully she’d understand anything spoken to her but, right now, with what she was wearing, she was ready for something a little more ‘silent’ than speaking. A woman wants what a woman wants and, right now, it had been far too long to bother with anything other than her desires.

Pressing the final button the project window summarised all of the specifications, with a slight outline of the person to the right of the summary. The project could be saved, just in case anything happened to the replica, which she named, ‘Decorum’. This very word, the very ideal of such things, was what she wanted most in the entire world. She pressed the start button and, over in the corner, the printer started to create her ideal man.

The seconds moved, her insides feeling fluttery, the nerves bouncing around within her, as the door smoothly moved to the side and out stepped her perfect man. He smiled, a great big smile, looking straight towards her, seemingly knowing exactly what to do. Walking over, fully naked, his body fresh and clean, he knelt in front of her, his lips inches away from hers. “Hello,” he said, with the sexiest voice she could have possibly ever heard, “Can I kiss you?” She nodded, moving a hand around his waist, as his lips pressed against hers. His warmth, soft skin, embracing her as she let go of the tablet. The final thought before her head started to escape the world, was the word decorum and, right now, that’s what she deserved.

Saturday, 6 October 2018

Birthday 2

Jaden pushed the craft that little bit further. The frictionless aura of space allowing such things, pressing forward, racing as the young at heart often did. His Sister, Sophia, laughed through the intercom as her craft edged that little bit further. Weight, no matter how distributed or presented, was still weight no matter the circumstances.

The Nebula, now filling the entire void in front of them, displayed the intense colours that one would never think existed within space. Their time, their moments, filled with intense views that most could only dream of. Jaden relaxed the throttle a little, returning to a gentle coasting speed, as he admitted that he’d lost the race. Again. It didn't matter as, with all things, it was taking part that counted.

“I won again Brother!” she goaded.
“Oh look outside, to your left, it’s your ego filling space.”
“J, e, a, l, o, u, s spells jealous!”
“Over, out, begone wicked child”

With a smile across his face, the Nebula filling his eyes, he watched as his Sister flew to the far left of his destination. A spectacle such as this in front of them took time to map and, between them, they’d be here for at least four hours. Drifting slightly to his right he pressed the button that, once again, released the drones. The tiny crafts flying away at speed, mapping, monitoring, sensing any changes since the last time they’d been here.

Relaxing into the seat, wondering when, or if, he’d ever get a chance to try the Corsair class space vessels, he grumbled to himself. The Viper was an amazing bundle of technology, adaptive, responsive, able to withstand immense climbs and spins, but the Corsair, let alone the Valkyrie class, was where it all started to get very, very serious. Combat, albeit no longer required, was what they’d both trained for. Youngsters with responsibility above their chosen task.

He knew that space should be dangerous, could be dangerous, as no matter what they’d discovered, there had to be more out here than they realistically knew. He moved the thoughts out of his mind, choosing, instead, to simply enjoy the view. The radio crackled once again, “Brother, grid D70, the drones cannot analyse. Having a look!”
“Okay, stay safe.”

The answer arrived from his lips but, straight away, the feeling of seriousness arrived. In all of their time out here, the many, many months, nothing had triggered the drones before this very moment. He glanced across, to his left, the glass instantly magnifying his view to where his Sister’s craft rested. He could see her pressing specific buttons. She looked relaxed, enjoying her work but, at that very second, he noticed a slight change within the space in front of her. It was a space mollusc. Not immediately dangerous, but large, very, very large and on a normal day not hidden.

He screamed into the radio but it was too late. These creatures rested for months, fading into the background of space like some type of chameleon. There wouldn't normally be an issue, as he’d just thought, but she was far too close. It phased into view, tentacles smashing into her craft, ripping it into sections and ejecting her into space, unconscious. The pure, raw, coldness of space.

A second escaped him, frightened, a momentary lapse of fear infecting him. The second moved into the next and he snapped out of the fear, taking control again. Thoughts ravaging, thumping his mind into action, discovering the options in front of him. “Craft,” he shouted, “Voice control!” The craft responded with a beep. “Expand craft to two seats!”  The craft started to expand to allow two pilots, as he pressed the small concealed button that enveloped him within his suit, to protect him from space. “Eject!”

Within a second he was outside, the craft sealing again. He focused across to his Sister, his Heads Up Display calculating her speed and drift. “Craft, enable Near Sight. Go!” He kept his eyes on his Sister, each calculation as important as the next. The craft below changed, moved into the square that he’d seen many, many times, then, within another second, blipped from one destination to another.

All he could do was watch as the craft appeared around his Sister. This had never been tested, let alone thought of, before this very second. He had no choice, no other rescue and, truthfully, he was absolutely scared out of his mind. The life monitors appeared on his H.U.D, with a sigh of relief escaping, as his Sister was safely inside. He barked another command as his focus continued to concentrate, “Life support!” He could see the readings and he hoped, he truly hoped, that she had the second to expel the oxygen from her lungs. If she did she’d have a chance. The small thrusters, built into his suit, engaged and the slow crawl, towards his ship, began.

Looking to his left he viewed the mollusc move away. He didn't blame the creature as instinct was instinct, but he did wish that they could detect them instead of the fumbling they often did. From this point forward, no matter the instance, the drones would always, always, inspect cases such as these.

Nearing his craft, that had now fully exited ‘Near Sight’, he grasped the rear, placing a foot onto a wing, enabling the magnetic shoe lining. Swinging around to the front he looked inside, half expecting his heart to explode, his nerves literally being beaten. Instead, as his tears started to escape, a smile appeared across his face as he caught sight of his Sister, safe and recovering, also smiling.

“Hey Brother,” she said with a broken, exhausted voice, “Thanks for the assist!”
“You do that again and… I’ll save you again.”

She’d laugh, he knew she would, if she could. Instead he would now sit here, outside, once again enjoying the view and uncertainty of space as she healed. He has his family with him, in his heart and, above all, he knew that they’d do absolutely anything to protect each other. Life was beautiful, despite existing often being arduous, but no matter the second, the time, the moment, they had each other and that was the most precious thing within the world. He laughed at the thought and corrected himself, “within the universe!”

“Happy Birthday to me!” he whispered to the great void.

Thursday, 4 October 2018


He heard nothing, sealed within the flight cage of the Viper, hurtling towards the canyon at speeds of over four hundred miles an hour. Sure, he knew, that he could crank the dial all the way to Mach 7, but that wouldn't be fun as he’d miss everything within his gaze.

The idealistic view cascaded in front of his eyes. He’d never seen so much colour. The abundance of beauty, all around, as he slowed to sixty miles per hour. Leaning to his side, taking in absolutely everything, the wondrous view, right there for all to see. The Earth had basically become something different, but this place, this exact place, was truly something else.

They’d found the vortex, the maelstrom void, around 60 years previous to this very day. One day, nothing, then from nowhere it appeared. That was all now history, the stories told to children, but this place, this very place, would be held in history forever.

Once through the portal humanity found wreckage of some long-lost culture, a race far more advanced in technical knowledge than themselves. But, as fortune would have it, not so advanced for the Human Race to easily de-construct the inner workings of a levitation drive. It transformed everything. The Earth, finally free from combustion engines, the burning of fossil fuels, providing the slimmest chance of a rescue for what was nearly thrown away.

We’d survived, thrived, held out a hand to the stars that accepted all of us without question. We’d learned about the many races, all now died away while we, for some reason, being the last of the many. We built mighty vessels, travelling the stars, becoming the very specs that could actually move mountains.

One moment, one chance discovery, changed everything. Jaden comforted himself, smiled, as the history of things flew through his mind. He was one of the lucky ones. Zero G accustomed, able to handle the most intense speeds, which meant that he’d excelled at almost every section of training. Then again, he wouldn't call training for the unknown, training that prepared him for being thrust towards a mountain by accident, or escaping the largest asteroid hurtling through space at insane speeds, training.

His Sister, on the other hand, excelled at the small areas that he seemingly failed. His equal, his actual mini nemesis, but loved all the same. She was currently on the other side of the planet, doing exactly what they both loved and adored. Exploring. Discovering. Like butterflies bouncing from one planet to the next. Jaden pressed a button and the 50, or more, drones dropped from his craft as he, once again, cranked the speed a little. He was so used to seeing green. Trees, plants, even flowers, in the museums that he’d visited. Here, right now, he could see pure pastel colours everywhere.

Bright red, yellow, light purple and more. The colours of a new planet. A new beauty. Moments like this filled him with awe, his eyes widening, as he realised how beautiful everything could be if he’d only look. No matter the devastation of Earth, the way of things, he could still envision growth, a rescue, a new path and idealistic view.

The radio crackled, only to clear as his Sister’s voice spoke with such clarity despite being over fifteen thousand miles away. Technology, when done right, really could make things better. “You have to get yourself over here right now!”
“Why?” Jaden replied with an inquisitive voice.
“Just shut up and crank the dial! Out.”
“Copy, out!”

Strapping himself down, voice confirming the destination, the head restraint moved into place as he pressed the throttle forward. Without hesitation, zero resistance despite the slightly increased gravity compared to Earth, the craft flew forward at an immense speed. It would take, roughly, 3 hours to travel the fifteen thousand miles, give or take a few minutes, but he had something that hadn't been used, for awhile. The matter displacement drive. With every journey there would be a destination and, right now, he could project that location to within 1.3 millimetres. It wasn't bending space, or time, but more of a relocation of matter from here, to there. In an instant.

It was, of course, an emergency feature only meant for emergencies. One wrong second, a breath out of place, could result in a cracked craft, arm or even skull. He usually didn't take chances but today, this very day, he felt lucky. Slowing to a near instant stop, internal dampers straining, he slammed his fist against the red dial that featured the word, “Emergency!”

The craft started to change, from its triangular frame, into more of a square, as the spinning started. Multiple clamps embraced his body, held him, as everything turned dark and then, nothing. The relocation process was something to be witnessed. Utter silence, darkness, as every single atom, every cell, each speck of blood, moved from one location to the destination. This, right now, would have been the second time experiencing the null feeling. It wasn't often that he experienced this level of silence. Even his heart remained quiet, every thought bearing witness to the silence and then, noise.

The craft arrived at the other side of the planet, shields moving back to their original location, the frame of the craft returning to normal. Jaden glanced at three dials to his left. All three green, all three safe, meaning that his nose hadn't appeared two metres in front of him. He’d heard rumours but, being young, didn't pay much attention to this or that.

As the restraints allowed him to move he accelerated to just over one hundred miles an hour. Coasting, relaxing, breathing after the momentary seconds of silence. It had been dubbed ‘Near sight’ by the techies. A way to travel to a location as if you’re literally there. He still thought that it sounded dumb but, thankfully, it worked so there was that.
His Sister’s craft appeared into view, both slowing, as she appeared to the side of him. “Hey Brother,” she said in a voice that he’d missed, “what’s today?”
“It’s my Birthday, stupid!”
“I know.”
“Is that why I've just flown thousands of miles?”
“Yeah, yeah, You used the ‘Near Sight’ again. You’re going to get into trouble one day!”
“Won’t happen. We’re the best they have and…”
“Don’t care, not listening. I got you a present.”
Jaden immediately stopped talking, as he loved presents, pressing his face onto the polymer graphite cockpit window. He knew that he looked stupid when doing so, but he didn't care. Presents were his thing, “What did you get me, come on, show me! You know how I get!”
“I got you a picture of Mother. Grabbed it from my mind after a long dream. It hurt but it was worth it.” 

Jaden, for a second, felt the sadness rise within him but that didn't last for long, “Thank you Sis, thank you. It is my Birthday and I couldn't think of any other present I’d rather have.”
“I know Bro, I know. Don’t feel sad. Look where we are, look at what we have. We’re healthy, exploring and doing what we love.”
Jaden felt her smile from across the metres between them. He placed a hand onto the window, as did she. “Race you to the Straxus Nebula?” He goaded with a sly voice.
“You’re on… But NO ‘Near sight’. Promise?”
“I promise!” he replied as he fell backwards into his flight seat, restraints already moving, the throttle pressed. As they accelerated to a cruise speed they both watched as the drones returned. The radio crackled once more, “Hey, Bro, It’s also my Birthday today. What did you get me?”
“Just you wait and see Sis, just you wait!”

Monday, 1 October 2018


“Mother flucker, are you ready to fly?” said James, as he moved two large thesauruses from the shelf, keeping one eye on the guy behind him, “This stuff will clear all doubt, remove the mist, make you who you ‘should’ be if the system was right!” The dust, quickly waved away, literally filled the area as he carefully pressed three of his fingers onto the small glass panel. A few seconds later, after the locks managed to move, the small door edged open and James reached in to grab the product.

Eager, as he’d heard all about the mystical, miracle filled, substance that had to be tried, Clark stood on tip toes. Literally. His week hadn't been the best, fired from his job, relaxing becoming impossible, so why not throw the last months salary into a last chance. It didn't last long, so he’d heard, but if it lasted long enough then that would be worth every single penny. After all, money or no money, when you hit rock bottom it didn't matter as the only way from there, was up. How fast, on the other hand, was up to him and here was the help.

James held the bag, carefully, knowing how much this stuff cost. “This flucking stuff will do things that modern medicine doesn't even know how to do.” James, also holding a small sample bag, placed the larger bag onto the table and carefully opened the smaller one. With the tinniest of spoons, barely three millimetres across, he pushed the spoon into the bag, carefully filled it to an even level and then tipped the content, from the spoon, onto a pristine A4 paper page into a straight line.  Dave looked at it, sat there, on the table looking glorious surrounded by the ever-clear white paper. He hadn't seen such a sight, let alone the paper page that was replaced by ultra-thin computer pads.

“Try it!”
“What? For free?
“Yeah, each main purchase includes this sample. If you don’t want it…”
“No, no, I’m in. I need this. More than you know!”
“Oh I know man, I know all too well. The world is hard, breaks you down into small bits. Almost like it’s planned, a random selection that makes you fall.”

Dave, looking at James, to the page, back to James, slowly stepped forward, “How do I do this?” he asked, genuinely not aware.
“You exhale then take the spice into your flucking nose man!”
“Okay, okay!”

Leaning forward, pressing one finger onto the left side of his nose, he snorted the content in one go, coughing like some type of idiot smoking for the first time which, he knew, that he’d never done. His first drug, not that you could call ‘spice’ a drug, ever, as the results were purely natural.

“How long will it take?” asked Dave.
“Seconds. We've come a long way from the days of 30 minutes mate.”

Seconds later Dave felt the fog, within his mind, fade. Neurons firing, or at least starting, dissolving his negative thoughts and the sensation, the tingling sensation, faded from the end of his fingertips. He’d never felt this level of clarity before. That moment where the body could achieve what it was intended to do.
James laughed, “Good isn’t it,” before he suddenly stopped, noticing the movement from outside the apartment, “Get do… .”

He didn't finish as, right at that second, the door literally flew across the room smashing into Dave, sending the door and Dave flying backwards into the wall.
“PD, get down or we’ll put you down!” shouted a voice as, within the blink of an eye, the room filled with Police. James, hands in the air, started to slowly fall to his knees but that didn’t matter as the baton smashed into his face, breaking a tooth. He fell hard, as the blood filled his mouth. His body instantly started to shake, the shock flowing through him as he noticed Dave, just across the room from him, trying to move before a bullet severed the top of his head all over the rear wall.

“Get the fluck up!” shouted one of the Officers. Another man grabbed him, pulled across a chair, lifted him from the ground and slammed him down. He’d never known such strength but this was the way it was. You had to stay ahead of the bad guys and, right now, this unit really was beyond anything. He recognised them. Knew them from stories. His time was up.
“Get the blanker,” said the cop in front of him, “While I read him his real rights!” James watched as a black case opened and he knew what was about to happen. Quickly snapping out of his shock he listened.

“As per the 2048 Miranda cancellation, you no longer have the right to silence. Anything you say will be used against you in a court of law. If you do not say anything your silence will provide us the right to record your thoughts and additionally use them against you, in a court of law. You do not have the right to an attorney, due to the same act, due to the class of crime witnessed. You do not have to understand these rights as you are present!”

James shook his head, closing his eyes, as the cop showed him the Spice. He knew that he wouldn't escape this situation. The cop, nodding, gave the go-ahead for the item from the dark case. James watched as the machine was unfolded, the five spikes sending a shiver into his soul. Like some kind of mechanical crab, they placed it onto his head. He would resist, he wanted to do so, but that wouldn't change a damn thing. He felt the surge, his very thoughts from the last 4 months, instantly being taken from him, purged from his mind, providing them with every contact, the entire process, then, nothing. The months gone from his memory.

He blinked a few times, as the machine was removed, not understanding where he was or what was happening. That, of course, didn't matter as the bullet struck him between the eyes, sending the rear of his head splattering against the wall.

“Clean that shit up!” barked the guy holding the gun. Reaching up he pressed a button just to the side of where his neck would be, if he wasn't covered head to toe in armour. The face mask split in two, each side moving away. Breathing, actual air, he gasped and laughed, “Hey newbie, you ever seen this shlit before?”  The smaller man approached, face protection also removed, 
“Nope, never, what is it?”
“This, my newbie friend, is called Spice!”
“Why the hell would we be after this stuff?”
“This, my flucking simple friend, is the real shlit. This crap is dangerous!”  
The newbie looked a bit confused as he lifted the bag, looking at the content, shrugging his shoulders.

“Think of all the nasty shlit out there, the flucked up trash. The coke, the M.A.S, all that, there for everyone. Fluck your own life up, the government doesn't give a fluck about you or me. But this stuff, this spice, clears your mind. It makes you think, actually think. The stuff they put in the food, the air, the shlit on TV. This stuff clears all of that. We can’t have people thinking for themselves!”
The newbie looked perplexed, looking at the other cops in the room, nodding at the honest confession, “Doesn’t sound that bad?”

“You flucking newbie. 20 years back people saw through the mass marketing bull crap. New diseases were introduced, health scares. We couldn't manipulate their minds any more, so we broke them another way. This stuff gives them back their health, with an added bonus of clarity. Crowd control, newb, thin the herd, control them. Spice breaks control. Gives them hope and we cannot have that. That’s why we’re here. Remember that!”

The newb returned the Spice to the desk, looking down towards the two dead men, raising his block rifle, firing one round into James’ leg, “Then let’s get on with it then!” The men laughed and started to search the room for more Spice.

“Flucking newb!” replied the cop, while pocketing the Spice.