There is a cult within humanity, tearing at our heart and mind. Telling us that theirs is the way to live, even as they destroy the world around them. Theirs is false promise and gloss, a thin veneer over gross decay.
Vague and ephemeral, a promising point in the sea of data, she swam forward and faded, time and again. A digital presence promising more, sensing my loneliness and my need.
A morning run; a promise kept. The world, in these silent times, is different. Resurgent, perhaps?
More time passes in lockdown. I become all-too-familiar with the world around me. I break it up, where I can, with exercise.
Establishing the boundaries of our new lives we concentrate on what we can. Answers don't exist for the question we all ask: when will this end?
We've shut ourselves down. What does this mean? I try to keep my mind quiet, my anxiety at bay; pacified. I don't always win. None of us do.
In the silence of the empty life, the heart and mind yearn to find fulfilment. They know what they want, but they can only ask for what they know.
A faded hope matches the mood of a dull morning commute.
Not a lot happened, today. But I’m going to tell you all about it, all the same.
Hello, it's me. Have you missed me? Most probably not. I wish I could say that my short disappearance is down to some mystical adventure I was involved in, but that would be lying. The truth is that I have been absorbed in my own cocoon for a little longer than usual. Growing up as … Continue reading Reminiscing [Onyx]