Find Love, Health and Happiness in the Modern World
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.
Well that was interesting. After 15 months and 45 blog posts, who would have thought the one that really sparked a fire in those reading it, and led to such a great debate would be the one on a topic seemingly as banal as sunscreen use (link here if you missed it). I expected some
I’m currently in Barcelona, and it’s raining, so what better time to bring up the topic of sun protection. I’m going to just say this: Sunblock is one of the cruelest jokes that has been played on an unsuspecting population, seemingly globally. The sale of suncream/sunscreen/sunblock has been pushed onto us through a campaign of
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
I know that the umbrella I clutch in my hands, my only defence against the steady drizzle that falls gently from the dark sky, will be worthless if the storm materialises and Zeus himself unleashes his fury.
