Little words

resist

our interaction with stories and experiences condition the continued use of those stories. Through our silence we allow the violence 

                          of certain stories 

                                    to wreak themselves 

                                                        upon our bodies. 

Through our collectivity, 

              we tacitly allow this wretched damage 

                                   to impact bodies of countless others. 

In a world where violence abounds: 

                                                                                                  – resist –

where?

they are everywhere.

I can’t breathe.

it’s the end — it’s the beginning.

literal cinder block through our windscreen.

                                        life over, round again.

I’m terrified.

Our world protects the coloniser,

                                        the rapist,

                                                           the murderer every time.

fringes?

GUNS.

guns are coming back.                                         medicine? private.

guns, yours. you toxic abusers win again.

                                        and again.

                                                           and again. sigh.

It's always politics

leviathan, consuming,

the beast beneath the bed,

your friend in the end?

no. you are always enemy.

destroyer of my (old) life.

ha. (i) win.

live dangerously

claude --dangerously-skip-permissions

We burnt it

and:

Look, end.

Move.
Burn.
Yearn.
Earn.
Learn.
Discern.
Move.
Turn.
See. But,
Really see.
Look deeper.
Gangrene.

Slow fashion

I was extraordinarily enticed by these today. Spent a good 15 minutes watching Cameron Diaz, amongst others, model some rad clothing. But that jacket, anyone? Whoooof. Please.

When products become clothes, what clothes are products? (It’s not deep, I’m being stupid!)

adrift

near               there

          home      honest

guidance                     stranger

               fair

far           free           at rest

     heart           hopes           spirit

                                                  mopes

Now: thoughts from the abyss

I’m trying something new here.

               short posts.      no email.