I read something quite profound today. It was on one of those really stupid e-card things, but for once, instead of inducing an uncontrollable scroll-the-mouse-wheel reflex, this one actually made me think. A little. The card read “ask yourself this: […]
Read MoreEverything forever a mystery. What a wonderful thing adding to a colour – something to mean. A brush upon pearlescent. Surface so pure. An aesthetic to please none but the weary pools of lost endeavour. Coy it becomes. The […]
Read MoreIf a day had only eighteen hours I would gladly spend the first sixteen musing over the thought of her. A more amorous day I find hard to imagine, and were I to be proven wrong, that day too would […]
Read MoreTime is a construct of our own doing. It doesn’t exist, yet we have been so conditioned to live within this paradigm that every 365 days, we fall into a sort of exhaustion. We suddenly become so useless that every […]
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