Monday, 26 October 2020


Push me. Nudge me. Press gently. I know that you eventually will, one day, upon a given second of decadence and impudence. It’s perfectly fine, even acceptable, especially under the current climate. You see, to you and many others, I’m the calm, friendly, crazy one that sits in the corner amusing people. I’m harmless, mostly.

I’ve always disliked injustice, that intolerance of others, or the basic fact that some people can be so absolutely blind that they simply do not, cannot, see their own nature. I’ve been there, the blind workings of my own beliefs hampering my progression but, through failure, one can finally see through to the clearing.

The calm, the knowing, the understanding soul of a person that has seen and been many, many differing things to a few or more. I know, we hopefully all realise, that our lives are but the smallest embers of a fire that will soon be replaced for other flickers of light. We have mere seconds upon the minute of our lives, to live and repeat the same said offerings of life.

We’ve cried, we’ve fallen, risen and began anew. I’ve paid whatever needed to be paid, for my crimes, yet the accused are still the accusers. It makes me smile, even though I feel that small tainted speck of fear still left within me. The fear of being miss-understood or, even, miss-quoted. We are but the words from someone else’s lips. You could be a monk within the region of love and prosperity, but still be the demon to which is spoken of to the many.

The thing with life, is that you can be pushed, again and again, until you form your own avalanche. It’s unstoppable, it’s poetic, prophetic, to fall upon your own knees as you realise what's about to happen. You take the punches; you grasp at the roots you’ve planted, and you roll forward.

You know that you’ve given your pound of flesh, the wise words of many being replaced with your own inner teachings and knowledge, as you gather speed. You leave them behind, you close the door, the ghosting of a few to become the many positive words within. You cast them aside, you move them away from your life, growing, as you feel your own strength ascending from within.

You are the storm, you are the rain and you are, most of all, your own sunshine within your smile. You’re beautiful, a grace filled spectacle of splendour, a crescendo of impending atomic power. Be all you can be, as you roll forward into the life and situations that you need. That you control. That you embrace with your arms and lips. You are the avalanche of your own life.

Freedom, through the chaos of your entire life exploding around your very eyes, can be liberating as well as exhilarating. You can step aside, you can embrace, you can view all of your own changes and, through the devastation of your own fingers grasping, the changes expressed through your own actions. Be, just be, all you can be. It’s simple. The hours behind you are lost. The moments in front of you are to be, but right now, rip apart everything you can no longer tolerate or appreciate. It’s your time, it’s our time, to thrust ourselves into the danger of finding freedom. There’s a sacrifice to be made, with one step leading to a fall, as well as a sudden rush of fear.

Intoxicating, once you start, realising that you could have made the change at any point. Procrastination is not your friend, neither your enemy, with your own heart and mind often holding you back through fear and impending anxiety. Damn all of those things. Hold your own damn hand, push your own shoulders and most of all, beyond your eyes closing, hold on tight and feel, enjoy, love the very avalanche as long as it’s the very moment… you desire.

Saturday, 17 October 2020


Daniel, sat upon the old bench, looked out into the calm view ahead of him. The mild breeze, of course, reminded him that it was a positive decision to bring his jacket. The view, including the sea in front of them, featured a few perched boats upon the sand, as well as the various seagulls flying from point to point.

He’d been visiting this spot for the last few months, seeing as his Grandfather, Mr. Potters, was slowly advancing in age. He knew that time was precious and, upon each visit, he simply loved listening to all of the various stories that his family member presented. Many stories, on occasions, repeated themselves. He didn’t mind. He didn’t care, as the insight into another’s life was precious to him. Important. The essential moments taken out of his day, to brighten both of their lives.

Daniel’s Grandfather, sat beside him, chewed the sticky toffee bar whilst making various grunting noises. How he managed to chew such a bar, with a mouth full of false teeth, was beyond Daniel. Either way, the man genuinely seemed to enjoy the treat. Daniel smiled, glancing to his side, “You enjoying that bar, Grandad?” The man nodded, as he stuck a finger into his mouth, no doubt finding a little bit of toffee stuck to his gum.

“I am lad, I am. Good stuff this. Your Grandmother used to buy me a few bars when she went shopping. I do miss her!”

“I know Grandad, I know!”

Thomas, Daniel’s Grandfather, removed the fingers from his mouth, then rubbed the slobber over his jeans. Daniel shook his head slightly, amused, knowing fully that Thomas had no time for pleasantries of certain kinds, as he’d lived his life, paid his debts and endured the pain.

As Daniel returned his gaze to the view ahead of him, his Grandfather stood, placing the chocolate wrapper into his coat pocket. Then, for some random reason, Thomas started to empty his trouser pockets into his jacket. Item by item. Moment by moment. Then, once finished, Thomas pulled out the trouser pocket linings and started to slap the edges. Daniel watched as various bits fell from the lining. Fluff, random bits, string and more fell away.

Bemused, Daniel looked at Thomas, “What are you doing, Grandad?” he asked.

With a smile, Thomas returned the lining into the pocket, then sat down.

“I have another lesson for you Son!  Your mind is like your pocket. When you’re born, you don’t have pockets but when you do get them, they’re clean, empty, with the following years adding strength and understanding, to hopefully reduce the holes that might appear within those pockets. You don’t want holes in your pocket lad. Nope!”

Thomas, once again, picked at his teeth, eventually continuing, “You see, each bad idea, harsh word from another or our own mouth, creates fluff. Your pocket is supposed to be a safe place, that keeps you warm. Your hands are the working ways of your soul. You write, you create, you work. What happens when your nails are covered in fluff, lad? Can’t have that.”

Daniel nodded, expecting more.

“You have to clean your pockets Son. Remove the fluff. Clean pockets, clean mind. Imagine if you met a lovely lady? Chance would be a fine thing, with your haircut lad…”

Daniel laughed, as Thomas continued, “You wouldn’t want to hold her hand, when your own hand is covered in fluff now, would you? She’d think that you were a scamp. Can’t have that. Clean pockets, clean mind, fix the holes and keep your pockets safe and secure. You’ll have a better life that way!”

Daniel nodded, fully understanding the small adage spoken succinctly by his Grandfather. He’d never actually thought about it before and, if he were honest, he’d never checked his pockets for fluff, let alone tried to discover the fluff within his own mind.

Turning to his Grandfather, with a great big smile, as he reached into his pocket to grab another snack, he spoke, “Thank you, I shall keep my pockets clean from this point forward!”

Thomas pushed Daniel’s shoulder with his, “Shut up lad, and gimme’ another toffee bar!”

Thursday, 15 October 2020


There comes a time, within a person’s life, where they’re ready to actually embrace a soul. We’ve done all of the things we’ve done, experienced most of what a limited life can offer, with new frontiers being the only thing we long for. It’s a heavy subject, I’ll admit it, but some things are worth exploring.

We’ve made love, we’ve held someone as close as we could possibly manage, yet still felt disconnected. We drift, we embark, we secretly realise that the soul next to us is not the soul that we wish to evaluate any longer. The outward view, our own eyes constantly looking to ourselves to create validation, eventually and finally wants something that will last.

At a younger age, I’d advise any singular person to perfect themselves. We’re talking physically, emotionally and, if you believe, spiritually. Don’t rule anything out. The world is to drink from. The wealth of knowledge is there to be understood. Ignore the politics and politicians that wish to control society’s impending chaos. Forget the religions of woke agendas, or the definitions of the feminist/toxic masculinity crowd, as you instead come to an understanding of the sexes yourself. Religion is no longer valid within the society’s we inhabit. Controversial statement? Yes. Triggered? Why?  It’s an opinion. They differ, they change day to day, which means that an opinion should never have any control over your stability and inner peace.

Be… everything, find that balance, as balance ensures that you can hopefully see the world through caring, understanding eyes. Sure, understanding is one thing, but those eyes of yours should eventually understand how the world works and, through that, the manipulations of society, adverts, people, loved ones and the closest lovers can simply flow away from you.

Now, let’s return to the topic. How close can you get to someone? Can we really communicate, without words, gestures, or even from another room? Crazy, right? We’re made of energy, so why not. We’ve heard stories where people have known of events, as they’ve happened. We’ve finished off our friend’s conversations and, of course, we’ve felt their pain the moment they’ve walked in. We’ve undressed others with our eyes, but how about undressing a soul, for a change?

I have categorical proof that we can speak to another from many miles away. No, sorry, I’m not insane. How does radio work? We are beings of light, supposedly, allowing such darkness into our hearts that I can understand why we’re barely able to breath above the waters we create for ourselves. Think. Imagine. Place the news aside. Switch off the television or tablet. Sit by your window and look out into the world. Think, explore, travel and communicate.

Heck, it will at least provide each of us with a certain amount of calm, that we usually do not even know exists. Disconnect, to connect. Breath, touch, embrace with the aura of our minds. It’s not madness. It could even be called a scientific experiment. Tell someone that you love them, from a thousand miles away. Hold their soul within your hands, imagine that soul as a living, breathing entity and hold it close to your thoughts. Every single thing we do, every intention, has a repercussion. If you think those solitary thoughts, then that might actually become what you are. If we fear, then we manifest.

Yeah, I know, I might be coming across as a crazy person. I’m not. I’m just open to exploration. I ‘want’ to touch another soul. I’ve embraced many against my chest. I’ve held, I’ve loved and I’ve felt. At no point, did I explore further than the usual day to day shenanigans. Why not? We have nothing to fear, other than our own fear. We are powerful entities, even if we refuse to believe so. We can cause devastation, pain, anger and sorrow. The next moment, we can touch, tame, tease and kiss someone into a loved frenzy of connective energy. We are, or at least can be, everything and more.

Tuesday, 13 October 2020


Twisting the cork, her fingers grasping the bottle as hard as possible, she winced, knowing exactly what would happen. The bottle brought forward a loud pop, the cork flying across the room as the Prosecco flew out from the bottle. Shrieking like a crazy person, she moved forward and poured the liquid into the two glasses, trying not to splash everything and everywhere.

Happy with the devastation, she stood upright, bottle to her side, nodding her head. “At least I didn’t get it everywhere!”  He laughed, a genuine laugh, greatly amused by the events unfolding in front of him. She was, in his eyes, his everything. She wasn’t perfect, to which he also alluded to his own person. Neither of them was supposed to be such a thing. Neither perfect, neither always wrong, but both perfectly right for each other.

If he could do all of this again, he wouldn’t, as he might miss the adventures of tomorrow, or the next day. He had the memories, the moments, the first kiss of many kisses and more. She moved her hair away from her eyes, placing the hair behind her ears. He leant forward, collecting his newly furbished wine glass. Sipping, gently, he simply looked up into her beautifully suggestive eyes. He’d always insisted that they called to him, from the very first day they’d met. The darkness within, being shielded by a smile that could melt the most stoic heart.

She looked at him, sitting there, with his gloriously presented jaw line, amongst the other facets that kept her awake that little bit longer at night. She’d gotten used to spending her nights alone, in her cold bed. Then, for some odd reason, he’d arrived. Through the chaotic mess of stability that she called her life, happy to be single, happy to ignore her own heart, he was there.

She’d tried all of her usual tricks. The past histories of events. The men, the few that managed to attract her heart, leaving, being held, allowed to let go. She’d played the games, the victim, the innocent, the avenging force or the survivor. None of that worked. He’d seen through all of it and, for some reason, pushed all of that aside, then carried her to his bed to hold her close. Her rubbish, her trash of events, meaningless to him. Her nights of crying or days of screaming at the world, all but the view from a rear-view mirror.

She collected her solitary glass from the table, also sipping the wine, as her mind sang the cacophony of words that seemed to betray her calm. She had her moments, that inner doubt, that seemed to creep from within. She couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t nasty, as she kept a moderate amount of calm, but still had to engage her demons.

“Why are you with me?” she asked, stepping over the small glass table, to straddle him on the sofa. She placed the wine glass back onto the table behind her, leaning back, to return her eyes to his. She smiled, the vulnerability starting to show ever so slightly.

He listened to her words, knowing exactly what was happening, despite being asked the same question numerous times over the last few weeks. He didn’t wish to re-iterate such things, but explanations were required and that was exactly what he would provide. He also didn’t wish to play games, to push aside emotions, feelings, or the traditions that were played within each and every relationship, despite wishing for life to proceed.

He kissed her, with a small kiss, a quick kiss, that still expressed meaning, before answering, “I could use a thousand different words. I could say that you have a beautiful smile, or that the things you say make me laugh, or that you have a backside that I just want to grab.  When all of that is said and done, I look at you, or I hear you… and I just don’t want to be anywhere else. It’s as simple as that. Anything else is pointless.”

She smiled, moving forward to kiss him in return for his answer. He returned her smile, as he wrapped his arms around her, moving the both of them from the sofa. Scooping her up, holding her tight against his chest, she moved her legs around him and felt his warmth.

She placed her head to the side of his, as he walked towards the stairs. He knew that he had one thing to do, with that one thing being to love the woman that he was with. Within that, he had to withstand the storms of life, to be all that he could be, as well as understand that within her, from a lifetime of events, existed a chaos unlike any other. He accepted his task with a smile. After all, the best loves could often arrive from the ever-expressive lives of the colourfully chaotic.


Apologies for vanishing for awhile. The world seems to be going a little insane.