Staring into the eyes of someone who loves you above all else is like staring into a fire.
Pressing your face right into the flames until you feel flesh slough from bone.
All else slough away from the world. Only eyes and fire remain.
Embrace. Inferno.
The only question is…
Can you match that fire?
I don’t remember where it came from, although that’s no surprise anymore. But I do remember what it means. I am the Shield, and She is the Sword.
A Shield can be a weapon unto itself. Wielded with hammer blows. But a Sword is superior.
A Sword can be a defence method. Who wants to walk into a whirling blade? But a Shield is superior.
This long suffering metaphor is intended to emphasise the power of being together.
I lied for her. And that was fine.
Couldn’t tell her friends. They hate me. I empathise.
I lied to her. And that was the end of all things.
I never should have. I did. And I don’t even remember.
I wish I could remember. The good. The bad. And the fake.
Everyone else knows more about me than I do.
Why did I think it would be fine?
Status quo, it is said, is latin for the mess that we are in.
You’re always one decision away from a totally different life
Those words are some of the most freeing I know. They help keep the wanderlust that runs through the fibers of my being placated…sober. I live as lightly as I can for good reason. Mostly because I have no other choice.
Here’s something that might be obvious about me.
It has been more than a few months since I last abandoned this site. Now here I am finally back to it. And all it took was a global bloody pandemic! My particular thoughts on that are liable to come later.
This is just a heartbeat to show that I’m back, not that I ever truly left. I’m hoping to break the cycle of frenzied intrest then drifting away that I fall into with so many things.
Authors’ note: I reckons that should say “Trust your gut, cuddle a cat and slam tequila” But that wasn’t on Unsplash…
Three years ago, I never would have thought that I could write a novel. Let alone write on in thirty days.
That’s right, it’s almost that time of year again! November is fast becoming one of my favourite months — not just because of Halloween and the fireworks, but the novelling.
Labels are great. They help organise things, like files. They underpin organisation and sorting systems. Categorisation.
Labels get tricky when applied to things that defy categorisation. People.
On the one hand, labeling people is super handy. Provided that the label is accurate — and the only way to guarantee that is if it is self applied. For example I label myself a ‘gearhead’ because it’s a convenient way to convey an area of my interests.
One of the reasons I’m so damn good at living for the present is that I can’t remember the past.
The instant a moment is gone it blurs, out of focus. Then it fades into the blackness. I can’t remember the mundane — what I had for lunch the other day, what movies I watched last week. Nor can I remember the special — the first kiss, the last heartbreak. It’s all gone.
The Edge is that which lights. That which sets the blood pumping. That which sparks the soul.
The Edge is the edge between life and death.
Chasing the Edge leads to the Rush.
The Rush is the fire lit from the Edge. The thump of heart pumping at the Edge. The blaze of soul sparked at the Edge.
The Rush is adrenaline, nothing more — nothing less.
It is also the only way I know how to Live.
I’ve been doing a lot (a whole lot!) of self reflection lately. It’s probably reflected — Hah! (Sorry1) — in my writings.
I’m trying to figure out who I am. And what I do. Big questions. But ones I want answers to.
Not least because of the series of relationship explosions I’ve undergone recently. In particular I’m trying to identify and neutralise toxic behaviours I either already had or developed in those relationships.
I’ve mused before about my irreconcilable dual philosophy. The part of me that inspires the ‘Neither do I’ in my “Adrenaline Junkie afraid to die…doesn’t make sense, neither do I” — it’s not just there for the rhyme!
In the shower1 just now it hit me what that is.
It’s a Jekyll and Hyde philosophy.
Sometimes, I attempt optimism with earnest. I see the world for what it could be, rather than the twisted anarchy that it is.