Tag Archives: author

I wonder what thoughts move behind your eyes when our gazes meet…

I wonder at every twinkling, every fraction of your eyebrow as it arches…

I wonder if you still take out the letter I wrote to you, its sheets worn with its frequent opening and repackaging…

I wonder if my written words run through your mind, every implied meaning considered and analyzed…

I wonder if you threw it away moments after you finished reading it…

I wonder how you feel about my silence….

I wonder when my words will reach you, and what they’ll be…

I wonder at the question in your eyes every time I pass by…

I wonder how close you are to him and whether those words, when finally uttered, will be enough to steal away all your attention…

I wonder why you seem so caring recently…

I wonder at each extended hug, each display of prolonged attention…

I wonder what to get you for your birthday…

I wonder at how I feel about your silence…

I wonder what tale you’ve woven for me out of the little you’ve heard…

I wonder if in your stories, I’m a legend, a loser, a Casanova, a coward, a hero or a halfwit….

I wonder if you mean it what you say when you said you’d changed…

I wonder why you want me now…

I wonder why I still even care…

I wonder if you would always be my always….

Wistful tirade

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il_570xN.670859496_r6e7The wind breaks the silence, it’s whispering cuts through it like the armoured head of the dread crocodile that swims the river Nile.

Our insecurities whisper also, of a multiple of possibilities, a clamour of thoughts. Each more final, more damning than the other.

It is a fearful thing. Weakness. Ones perception is always narrowed towards it as it worms it’s way through mind and soul.

I desire just two things, two acts to rid me of this malady, to heal my soul and free my spirit.

I wish of you to know who I am, and in that knowledge, understand me. That is the first wish.

Lastly I wish you to tell me, to whisper in my ear that despite my flaws, my shortcomings. I wish you to tell me you love me.

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Travails of love

Look at that, no, really look

Gaze upon this truly foolish specimen of futility

Clinging ever so precariously to the ever porous buckler of hope

Does he not know that crossbow bolts of reality care not for hide and wood

Off course he does

Deep down he possesses at least an awareness of facts

But then look how he rushes

Like a lemming

An unending will to impale self on that regenerating spire

Named expectation

What does he seek?, what does he want?, what drives him forth?

A desire

An end to this loneliness

And yes, there is only one word to describe him


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Continuum: True Bliss

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This story is a continuation (yes I realise the title pun), these are the links to the parts that precede this….. The first and the second

Seandar walked like a man stalked. There were reasons for this (as usual). One was that he was in reality being physically stalked, he could feel the stranger creeping in his wake. He had yet to catch a glimpse of its existence but the feeling curled around his spine in that ineffable way that one felt when one was being watched. Continue reading

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It is with a confusing mix of pride and modesty that I give life to what this post already means.


those three exclamation points aren’t even enough…. I’m just going to go ahead and add a few more.


I recently (if a month-plus counts as that) stumbled into a snaring snarling web of responsibility and uncertainty. I’ve got to admit also, that I was experiencing a block for a while (we’ve all had one). I’m so happy it’s over… but I have a few things taken my time now, and one of them is named survival. How hard is it to live all by yourself! I know right! I have to think of mundane things like food, *sigh*, i might have to pick up hunting.

Henceforth, it might be a little hard, I will assail the insurmountable odds my own indolence presents and create something once in a while, for myself, for you.


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This Rock

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There was this rock. I came across it on a morning similar to any other. It was half my height and twice my weight, ask not how I was sure of this fact. Nevertheless, it was immovable. Somehow this stone was unique, it was different from any other I had come across before, and make no mistake, I had seen my share of awesome stones.

This stone was different only because it was. Continue reading

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So I woke up today bursting with so many short snips of randomness, I’ve decided to share….

Everything worth fighting for is won without fighting” – Trull sengar, I think.. midnight tides, fourth in the malazan book of the fallen.

and so he told me “he brings with him peace….the peace of the sword….the sword of death, you must accept!!! You must accept!!!”. So I dismembered him.

Lies are a blessing only to those who are continually privileged with cold truths, that is why I cherish the cast of illusions.

The unaligned only know solitude, their only power is one of surprise…. baring that, they are nothing.

Unlike most things, too much despair is a good thing, it brings in its wake desensitization. The ability to laugh at ones own misfortune becomes a valued virtue, eventually.

a kind of fruit from the tree of the mind

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Writing out Realities

So….., I’ve been thinking, anyone who says the moving picture entertainment products are more…. wait, who calls them that anyways, I’ll start again. Anyone who thinks or says that movies are more expressive or flexible than books has obviously not read anything yet.

I’ll give some examples to back my point here… apart from the obvious, off course.

In writing, how, to be exact, something is put, determines the way you see it, and as self explanatory as that is, you’d be surprised how subtle it could be. Let’s say in the description of a particular male character, after stating the more meaningful hair colour…complexion..blah blah blah, something like Continue reading

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Wonder and Beauty


I’ve not written anything light in a while, maybe even ever, and so… through some introspection and outside influence from my moon goddess, this was created….hope you like it, it’s a little mushy.


Lorn hated going to those things, the annual feverish gathering of warlocks was being held in the regeneration grove. To think that he would have almost missed out on what would be the most enchanting event of all his entire long life. Continue reading

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“There are too many of us”


“Let me tell you the most beautiful story I know.

A man was given a dog, which he loved very much.

The dog went with him everywhere,

but the man could not teach it to do anything useful. Continue reading

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