You didn’t genuinely believe that was the last post did you? Mate, I’m just getting started. The last edition was the final chapter of the old book. This post marks the commencement of the new. The last post was all about truth. My truth. The only truth that exists within my universe. In my universe
This blog from start to finish, if indeed this is the finish, has been my truth. In that first post I declared that I would be nothing but honest. I have left some stuff out, but I have been nothing but honest. This is my truth. My bible. But this is not my truth. This is the truth. The only truth.
People, all around the world, are right now speculating about what is going to happen next. If/when do we get to go back to work? How long will the money in my savings last? Will the banks go under because of mortgage defaults? Will the airlines ever come back? When are the kids going back
This is the post that all the preceding 50 posts of this blog led to. This is the piece that makes sense of it all. This is the moment where my writing, and my being, starts to break free from the restrictive darkness in which it has been swimming. What I write here might not
Love, Chris A while back I started signing off my posts with this. But what does it mean? Love is an incredible thing, it permeates through our lives, through our societies, through our arts. Some of us spending our lives chasing it. Some of us never find it. Some of us feel it all the
This is the post I’ve been avoiding writing. I don’t really want to talk about Thailand, but as I strolled along the coast this evening, on a hot humid Sydney summer’s night, I rediscovered the urge to type. So here we are. My ten weeks in Thailand ended in mid-December, I flew back into Australia
This big black cat is magic. She is sleek and sultry, her muscular body sways with confidence as she moves, and she has these dark yellow eyes that could pierce your soul.
The habits and coping mechanisms I formed at that young age are very much still there in my behaviour. I needed them when I was that young boy. I don’t need them anymore, they’re holding me back.
My pulse thumped through my veins, my senses were firing on all cylinders; seeing, hearing, feeling everything. The bass line pounded through every cell of my being.
There is little pile of poo sat on the paving slabs right outside the front door of my sister’s apartment building. It has been there for five days, and has long since dried up. It bears an imprint of the sole of some poor sod’s shoe. Every day I note its presence and carefully step