Journal Entry


If love is a rose then I’ve always wrapped my palm around those thorns and held onto it like a rodeo bronco. It hurts like hell but I can still smell the flower can’t I? I’m addicted to feeling. I’m addicted to feeling for I rarely feel much. Not to do a disservice to my friends and family but I’m someone who feels in extremes. What draws reaction from me is those highest of highs and sometimes unfortunately, those dark depths. So I spend most of my time not feeling much. I shuffle. I shamble. I meander through the park that is called life. I’m that solitary man sitting on the park bench staring into the distance. Not staring at anything or anywhere in particular. Just, staring.

Love to me is an awakening. If I see in black and white, these feelings bleed my vision into colour. I begin to see beyond myself. Seeing what could be. Seeing what can be. Seeing what two can achieve. Love inspires me. It fills my glass that’s sometimes half-empty, otherwise half-full. Feeling the love of another ensures I never fail. It empowers me. I never fail because I’d never quit. No task is too big, too hard or arduous. I fight with tenacity to keep that light of love to guide me.

However love for me now means the unknown. It means saying goodbye when I don’t want to. It means I don’t know where we’re going or even if there’ll ever be a we. Love has become a stranger. I grasp in the blinding dark to find only to find where she once was. Dark because my love scares her I think. Where I see open plains in the most fruitful valley in the land of opportunity, I believe she see’s a single path carving through the depths of a mountain to an already determined destination.

Love gets lost in translation. I struggle to explain my love sometimes. I just want them to understand. Here’s an attempt.

We’re driving down a highway. You’ve got the wheel. We don’t know where we’re going but we’ll figure it out. You thought you wanted to go to the beach but maybe now we’re headed to the mountains. I don’t mind ’cause I’m happy to do it with you. I’m playing DJ. It’s equal parts eye-rolls and karaoke. It’s an adventure we’re both figuring out. We don’t know if we’ve got enough money. But we’ve got no place to be. We’re scared but it’s alright. I take your hand and give it a squeeze. I give it a squeeze because I’m trying to say I’d go anywhere with you but I don’t know how to say it without my heart skipping a beat. And I’m scared. I can see you’re scared too. I want to ask what’s wrong but I also don’t want to rock the boat. I know we’ll fight at some point. I’ll say something stupid or I’ll really push my luck with my song choices. But it’s OK. I could never hate you. You’re my person. I know you and you know me.

You’ve got the wheel. I want you to have your journey. Your adventure. I just want to enjoy the drive with you. And take stupid pictures. I love you and I’m just as scared as you.

Au revoir.

Journal Entry

It’s been a while

I haven’t posted anything for some time. Now evidently most of what I write here is for me as I don’t have an audience or much of one. Having an audience was never my intent. My intent was to put my thought onto a platform; into the ether. To be read, or not to be read but none the less, out there.

It’s been a rough year since I stopped pouring things out of my head. I’ve been in a confused and stressed head space. To tell the truth I’m not sure why I allowed it to occur. I say allow because it honestly was a slow accumulation of inaction across many areas of my personal and professional lives which culminated in the first major change in direction for me in over 7 years.

I’ve come to realise life is this funny old thing. A lumbering steam train that continues along the track regardless of whether you want it to or not. Travelling along there’s a great number of things that you can do to smooth the ride and even control which forks you take. But these undertakings require direct action and a responsible soul to carry the burden of those choices. I’ve been leaning on the side of inaction for some time now.

The tracks I’ve been hurtling down had fallen into disrepair. The ride had become bumpy nigh to the point of fear of derailment at any moment. But up until my moment of epiphany I thought there was little I could do. Powerless to exercising any modicum of control. Oh how wrong I have been. I realised however that my inaction was in fact a choice, not the absence of one. I had chosen to allow everything to take its deteriorating course. Luckily for I the cure was an easy one.

Take ownership. Make choices. Create change. I will no longer atrophy physically, mentally and emotionally.

Depression truly is a motherfucker. It’s caused me so much grief, stretched me to my limits and tested those I love dearly whilst they see me flip between victim and sage; being needy but then refusing assistance. Days spent lying in a fog reaching out to a select few that I abuse as emotional crutches. Cursing my isolation but negating to see how I have isolated myself. I sometimes imagine myself as a prisoner constructing the very walls around me whilst actively cursing the warden to release me. The warden steps forward and to my surprise is wearing my face.

I’m sorry to those who have felt disappointment in me, feel exhausted by me or who have lost patience with me. I thank you for choosing the kindness in not expressing it. I won’t let you down.


Thought Essay


I used to be at odds with ambition. I was too idealistic and believed ambition to be a gross expression of masculinity. However, now, I think that my past hang ups with ambition and by extension, asserting myself, was just an elaborate defence mechanism of depressive tendencies. If I didn’t need to actively pursue anything, implement initiatives to better myself, under the false guise of self-preservation, then I was rewarded by staying in the incredibly subtle downward spiral. By remaining unchanged my apathy remained stalwart, keeping my mind and body under its Marshall law.

However, I recognise now that my ambition can cut right through all that self-pity. My ambition to write, my ambition for professional success, my ambition for love, my ambition for strong and honest relationships, my ambition for personal health; they are all on a higher moral ground of self-preservation and they must be pursued. I will no longer shirk ambition and improvement under the false-pretense of eschewing a gender role (ergo excessive masculinity). I will not surrender myself, my being, my thoughts, my future to entrapping ideals that intend for nothing more than perpetuating a cycle and placing myself last.

My ambition is happiness. Solid, tangible and nurtured happiness.

Journal Entry

01/05/2017 – Island Musings

How very much we take for granted, should it take a holiday to appreciate a sunset or glance upwards at the stars? I feel it’s the simple things we let slip because we fool ourselves that our selves are too important. When we step outside ourselves we would find more to marvel at. As children we did this subconsciously and over time we train ourselves to forget the little wonders.

As time moves forward and our lives progress there is an element of disconnect with the very stimuli that inspired our growth. It’s sad to think that there is 52 weeks to a year and I only allow myself 4 of them to truly unwind and remember forgotten perspectives. I am a little man in a large world but I only allow myself the time to try to be the most important one.


Untitled Poem # 1

Fizzle bang pop

No, just no

Please just stop

That’s no good

A bad start

Working rotten wood

Where will this lead

You don’t know

Maybe honey mead

Build a great pyre

Dowse it with fuel

Bring forth the fire

What will burn?
Dinner or lunch?

No, feelings spurned

Purge is the answer

Words make the riddle

Forget the cur

Smoke wafts higher

Fire burns hotter

Thoughts get deeper

Ash is all remains

What it was destroyed

But the jewel stained

Grab a rag

Polish is bright
Give to the Hag

Fizzle bang pop

Back to the start

Find the mop

Better clean up

You’ve made a mess

Time to sup

Lights out now

Time to rest

Dreaming – kill the sow

Thought Essay


Being my first post, I’ll preface this first by explaining what this will be. Thought Essays are little exercises I give myself to explore a word or an idea. Some are short, someone are quite long. Most of the things I explore pertain to oneself and help in a way to add a little more colour to the self-portrait that adorns my subconscious.

I’m also kicking off with the topic of transparency as I feel that the very subject forms the basis of why this blog even exists. I’ve been writing journals, poems, short stories and observations for approximately 13 years, give or take two. Over the last 6 years I  have slowly but surely been attempting to write a novel. Currently, I have very little ready to be published. Lacking a completed book, I’ve decided to delve into all other mediums of writing that I participate in but have kept private. I intend for everything here to be honest and true with the goal of 100% transparency at the forefront.

I believe there to be two sides to transparency; internal and external.

Internal transparency is the degree of introspection one exercise and the level of awareness one possesses of their speech, actions and thought. Internal transparency has fewer filters that can distort it and is easiest to achieve as it cannot be warped by the perspective of others. This should also be of the highest priority if you are to regard yourself in any level of esteem. No, not a priority, it is imperative.

External transparency is difficult and carries with it more inherent risk. By being transparent with others you are exposing yourself to completely to the abyss, and we know what’s been said about the abyss don’t we? However, I do believe that being transparent with others is the key to eliminating stress & anxiety whilst nurturing happiness and contentment. The challenge of external transparency is that it inadvertently passes through the filter of social constructs, expectations and can be hijacked by someone needing a platform to express their opinion. I have found that external transparency requires a lot of my attention.

I’ve been fortunate enough in my life to have collected a handful of people who, when I’m around, I can do my best impression of a glass of water. I know I can allow them to stare through my thoughts and beliefs and not have social anxiety attempt to tear my stomach out through my sternum. It’s taught me that it’s OK to let people peer underneath the veneer every once in a while, if anything it’s healthy.

My brain can often feel like a jumbled assortments of competing thoughts, one will be hosting a knife fight for senior citizens and another wants to hold a desert rally for children and their orphaned foster goats whilst the whole thing is back-lit by aggressive neon light. Expressing myself, even the dumbest of thoughts or my most unpopular of opinions, to others halts the chaos in that moment. Transparency is fundamental. It is the very exercise that keeps my singular foot in reality.