Occasional poetry and prose. Sometimes melancholy, sometimes happy. Original photos from around the place.
You can tell when the monster is talking. It’s obvious.
The man becomes quiet and he can’t remember what happened.
Furious judgement, obsessed anger.
Then, a switch flips and away with narcissism.
Reason and peace, until the next time.
Ups are getting shorter and further apart.
Downs are deeper and longer.
One day, the downs will be all there is, after one final miserable up.
And who will know?
In the darkness, alone.
Time has passed.
The opportunity for intelligent conversation is lacking.
You’re alone.
Invisible.
You don’t count anymore. You probably never did.
Live man, live!
You know now that you left it too late
But don’t keep leaving it
Take the path. Find it again.
Live life on your own terms before the fire burns out.
Vancouver is a trapezoid.
London is grown-up.
San Francisco is a garbage pile of creative genius.
Los Angeles is pretend.
Venice is mythical.
Sheffield is an anchor of cold hard rock.
Peterborough is L-shaped.
Manila is delicious.
Portland is a haze.
Orlando is glistening skin.
Chico is coffee at home.
Ypres is Cafés and falling off chairs.
Dublin is musical.
Frankfurt is on time with sauce udders.
Hong Kong is a blurry queue.
Barcelona is sunny sandwiches.
Milan is exposed to the world.
New Orleans is drunk and in love.
Baltimore is Old Bay.
Edinburgh is a whisky volcano.
