Monday, 16 September 2019


I’m aware, fully, independently, soulfully aware of what’s happening around me and within. It’s a stark contrast to the calm, serenity filled existence, that I’m used to. No issues, no paths needing to be followed and no quandaries to explore. Free, fulfilled and nothing much more.

Then there’s you. Just you. All you. Everything about you. I just want to ignore all of it, everything, every single little nuance of who and what you are. You’re that button that begs to be pressed, you’re the thought that lingers after exclaiming my ignorance. You’re the disorder within my very, eloquently, decisive structure and routine.

There’s a moment, the realisation, when and where you realise that you have a tight grip upon your emotions. That sterile subconscious that’s suddenly and irrevocably level. The balance within all things. The moment of moments. The pacification of a lifetimes struggle. I’m there, been there, returned there and more. Through that, experiencing that, means you’re more than aware of your surroundings.

I mention the word surroundings, like it’s some kind of special gift, but all I see is the solitary wisps of you within my mind. I want to look away, look out into the world, but I’m becoming trapped in an unravelling travesty of indulgence and dreams.  There’s something happening and, truth be told, I don’t wish for it to stop.

Maybe I should focus, force this into the world, face and view the moments head on. I’m not one to run away, from anything, despite hiding on occasions as I wait for my thoughts to procure the needed strategy. Often, or not, it’s then too late but at least I found the way. That path. This, on the other hand, is not a path. It’s all about you and you.

Swept away, the sea defences raised so very, very high, yet nothing can stop whatever it is that we’ve started. I’ve felt and thought you next to me, upon me, around me and more. We’ve broken the envelope that holds the story to a thousand events. It’s wrong, but right. It’s dark, it’s grey, it’s whiter than white with all of the other colours about to get into this very crazy mix.

I could say one word, ten words, or even write this, but it’ll never be enough as words simply will not do. I don’t want to speak, right now, as I’m aware and I’m realising that I’m losing something of myself. The therapeutic fear of falling for another. The imaginary meditative state we can reach. It’s all there. It’s all in the moment.

I’m not sure what could happen, or will happen, if I seemingly let myself float away into this space. The unknown, the known, both at the same time, the same old same new, appearing in front of my very eyes.

I’m aware, fully, independently, soulfully aware of what’s happening around me and within. It’s a stark contrast to the calm, serenity filled existence, that I’m used to. No issues, no paths needing to be followed and no quandaries to explore. Free, fulfilled and nothing much more. This is all a make-believe moment, just in case, imagining what it would feel like to fall for someone. Ever mindful, of what might one day, actually be.

Saturday, 14 September 2019


Ezrielle curled his fingers around the thick brutal chains, as he smiled at her. He was strong, very, very strong, but maybe this time she’d manage to contain him. Control him. Keep him at bay long enough for the current events to expire.

Wishful thinking, the notion of control possibly proving to be her ignorance in place. Naivety at play, the previous events escaping her mindful thoughts, or just her way of playing those sweet vicarious games of hers. He liked them. All of them, no matter the moment, circumstance or notion. He’d play them all, with vigour, expectancy and far, far more.

His fingers grasped the chain hooks, bolted to the floor, the two inches of pure steel and concrete keeping him at bay. Tightening, she watched as his arms tensed, along with every single muscle across his lascivious frame. She’d possibly find his perfect body disgusting, if it were not for her entire body screaming for his attention. She needed him, all over her soul, body and mind, which is why she did what she did. She hated his control of her, despised wishing for his kisses, his attentive nature calling to her in the middle of each night. She’d wake, yearn, ask and surely, receive.

She laughed at him, as he tried to stand, tensing and exerting nearly every ounce of energy he had within his veins. He closed his eyes, pulling at the chains, trying, calling upon his strength to do what it often did. Impress. Normally he’d never care for such things, but she seemed to enjoy his feats of endurance, especially where it counted and, surely, she counted. Insatiable, undeniably demanding, her ravenous instincts breaking through any intentional defences he presented.

That weakness, deep within, needing her more than he’d like to admit. The bonding of both for eternity, the awakening of an eternal connection shared between the rarest of two. He’d walk away from her, forsake her demands, yet he knew that he’d struggle to find another that seemed to light his internal spark. Scorching, burning at his very thoughts, he’d realised many eons previous that he could never leave. His arch enemy, his arc of truth returning to the indefinable conclusion, that no two could ever fuck the way they did.

There was more between them, between the laughter and fornication, an unspoken bond that neither would acknowledge. He’d seen this, witnessed his thoughts upon that singular day that he thought he’d lost her forever. It shook him, woke him from a certain aspect of his born ignorance, never to ever be forgotten. He'd once spent years wandering the deserts of this world, the solitary exclusion surrounding him, embracing him, only to find that his thirst could never be quenched without her lips poured over his.

She laughed at him, again scorning his actions, as he failed to break his given bonds. He smiled, for a brief second, as he laughed a realising acknowledgement. This would not do. He would never be beaten, never caged, pushed to the floor by this very means. Forcing his pride down into the depths of his soul, he reached his anger, for his lust and desire, that smouldering aggressive nature of man. He held it close to his thoughts, allowing them into his very blood and soul.

He opened his eyes, his head bowed ever so slightly, as his mood changed from playful to power defined direction. He would have her, today, tonight, in the next few moments. She knew what was about to happen, her mind informing her body to prepare itself for the next few hours. He would not stop until he had satisfied every single inch of her. He didn’t care about himself, in that way, as this was his mission in her life.

He again grabbed the chains, bending over slightly as he bent his knees. The full force of his legs, the entire range of his back muscles providing support, as he engaged the very core of his emotions. Strength was nothing, without the reason behind the purpose. He felt his passion, his need, his very reason for being and pushed upwards with his legs. Arms, holding on with all of their internal limits, as a second moved away with the sands of time. The chain linkages snapped, releasing him from his bonds. He stood there, in all his gloriously formed stature, looking directly at her. She smiled, then giggled, waiting for her prized possession to thank her for his latest game. After all, at moments like this, the monster within him came out to play with the roaring full moon.

Monday, 9 September 2019


Each step, each lumberingly laborious step, loomed ahead of her within the spiral. It had been a few months, weeks, with moments of joy filling her life in a way she thought she’d never experience. She’d smile. She truly would, if it weren’t for the damn stairs ahead of her. Sure, yes, of course, it was keeping her fit and lively, but that wasn’t the point. If there were a lift, she’d take that instead.

At times, on a good day, a very, very good day, she’d jog up the stairs but today was not one of those days. It was one of ‘those’ days. The weight of the world arrived, to her mind, the moment she had opened her burdened eyes. Nothing in particular weighted her thoughts, just the usual, the ever so often notion that staying within the soft sheets and escaping life would be easier. Facing life. Embracing life. Realising that things could be amazing, could be effortless. If only; if that ‘only’ moment roused her thoughts into believing. Anxious, heavy, wooden thoughts betraying her. She just didn’t want to move.

The basis of all things, her ever present thought, of simply not being good enough. Her alarm had spoken to her, after the third snooze, reminding her that there actually was a place that needed her. Wanted her. Called to her through all of the doubt and upturned smiles. He wasn’t a rescue, nobody would be, but for the briefest time she actually smiled, forgetting the thoughts, flying without the constant need and reminder of becoming grounded. It was beauty itself, the grace to which she inspired, to see her own face glow with a glorious smile. For that moment.

Each step, higher than the last, each step a push forward. She stopped, placing her hand upon the rail to her side, puffing air from her lungs as she grasped at her breathing. That momentary lapse in effort as she allowed her body to catch up and recover. It was early, far, far too early, but she had been given the suggestion and accepted in a moment of madness. No make-up, scruffs, just herself, her torturing thoughts and not much else. This is what he had asked for and, against ever single screaming thought within her mind, this would be what he would get.

The questions and taunts appeared within her mind, as she continued up the spiral. She’d found herself, figuratively, metaphorically and emotionally, at the bottom of many spirals. She’d climb from them, reach up from the bottom of whatever moment she found herself within, many, many times and would continue to do so. Through great fear, or so she’d read, could rise the most impressive willpower imaginable. Facing her own fears, her own thoughts each and every single day, meant that she could barely run, let alone hide, from each and every single one of them.

She wasn’t good enough, wouldn’t and couldn’t accomplish this, or maybe that, despite doing so against all of her odds. She’d see people flying so very, very high, despite having to be grounded and attached to her breathing patterns at all times. The momentary flairs, where she’d simply wished to run and escape, haunted her and pushed her to the ground. She denied it all, of course, as the desire to function the same as the people standing beside her, overruled the great big monster within the room of her mind. Haunted, exasperated, the darkness still calling for her at every single turn.

Another step, another moment closer to the door that held so much for her. She’d push him away, if it were not for the way she felt about him. She, again, reminded herself that he was not her rescue, a saviour of sorts, but a safe haven to relax and let her inner self express. The thoughts seemed to dissolve when he held her hand. He, as much as he said he did, seemed to marginally understand. He wasn’t the type to just say that he did, as he was not living within her thoughts, experiencing them, pushing them away when even picking an outfit filled her full of dread.

The last step, the spiral behind her for another day, gone and thankfully forgotten. She stood in front of the door, that fabulous door, the door that allowed her freedom of thought and expression. No judgement, no repercussions, only the odd look when he seemed to know what she was thinking. He had taught her one thing, amongst others, that her first thought or decision to a question would usually be the correct answer. All that followed was doubt, questioning, denial, fruitless and best avoided. The slow thinking versus the fast thinking of life. That thought, after realising that everyone did the same thing, opened her eyes a little. She’d denied her thoughts as much as possible. Her first decision, to any question, would be her guide and that’s why, right now, she was standing in front of his door looking like a hedge had managed to prepare her hair, face and clothes for the day.

She gently knocked on the door, her usual way of saying hello despite standing outside many a door for longer than necessary. She did not like loud noises and, due to this, she also didn’t wish to create them. The door opened, as it had done many times previous, as her view was filled with his smile. Those eyes of his, seemed to do something to her, in a way that she didn’t wish to ever change. They saw her, really, really looked into her while so many, many people looked through her. For once, that glimmer of hope residing within, that spark alight, she actually believed that he wanted to be with her.

“Hello,” he said with his usual warm voice, “Come in, everything’s ready!”

She smiled, stepping forward, not having any idea of what was about to happen. The apartment was beautiful, the d├ęcor quaint yet stylish, lived in and arranged for relaxation. Whenever she walked into the room the feeling of calm flowed over, which was a stark contrast to the icy feeling of her apartment.

“How are you?” he asked with that damn smile still upon his face.

“I’m fine!” she replied, knowing that she wasn’t fine, as her thought bounced around within her mind. She looked terrible, her hair wasn’t arranged as she’d like, her clothes a mess, her mood swinging from happy, to scared, to running away after throwing his potted plant through the window. She was, if she were honest with herself, a complete mess of contradictions. She felt her hands start to shake, as her thoughts simply destroyed any beauty that was within her reach.

He stepped forward, holding her hand, as his other hand moved around to her back as it pressed her against him. “I know that you’re not fine, which is perfectly fine, as you’ve arrived here as instructed, yet you still look amazing!”

She laughed. She didn’t look amazing, yet he seemed to see through all of that and insist that she was. The darkness, surrounding her, made her own smile escape her lips.

“Hey,” he said knowing exactly what was happening, “No words!”

She looked up into his eyes, wondering what was happening, as he kissed her. Slowly, very slowly, as he removed her jacket and started to unbutton her blouse. She looked at him as the kiss ended, her body racing, her heart becoming alive within the moment. The blouse fell to the floor, as he bent down, removing her shoes and socks. Returning to her view, looking deeply into her eyes, with that damn smile of his still doing what it did, he unbuckled her belt, undid the buttons on her jeans and slowly, with a little bit of effort, jostled them away from her. Stepping away from her clothes, he reached around and separated the clasps of  her bra with one hand and then, just then, removed the last remaining garment.

Naked. Completely naked, standing in his room, her mind suddenly vacant of thought as her breath explained the warmth escaping from her body. From only just managing to escape her bed, the grounding of her thoughts becoming her only concern, to dragging herself here, for this moment and notion. It all seemed a bizarre and crazy series of events. Her belief in herself, something of an enigma, yet she could stand here, in front of this man, completely naked and vulnerable. None of it made sense, with all of it real and so very, very beautiful.

In one swift moment he cradled her within his arms, her legs over his right arm and her back held with his left. He carried her, across the room, towards the pre-prepared bath. Slowly, gently, he lowered her in. The bubbles, surrounding her, the aroma of freshness embracing her, as she just kept her eyes upon his. She watched as he removed his dressing gown, his taut figure greeting her as she gloriously viewed everything he had to offer. She’d laugh, or even giggle, instead choosing to keep her delight a secret. For now.

Stepping into the bath, lowering himself, their legs finding their place, he motioned for her to turn around to rest upon his chest. She turned, feeling his arms wrap themselves around her, holding her, greeting her in the way that they should always greet.

“If you’re feeling brave, tell me everything about the spirals that you face, each and every single day!”

She smiled, knowing, realising, that this was a safe place, would always be a safe place, with a person that understood. He realised that some struggled with the smallest things, the moments of life, the words that needed to be found.  But no matter what she thought, irregardless of the struggles, no matter how she managed to stay grounded, she’d gladly fall into a spiral as wonderful as this moment.