Follow My Blog
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.
I’m in a metal box. It’s raining outside, maybe. No one is coming. Not ever. Sleep provides a refuge in which the mind becomes one with its [our] habitat. I must emerge in my dream because The Jewel is coming. I buzzed her in. Soon she’ll enter through my hotel window. I selected her from… Continue reading Cut-up Sequence #1: Our Hammer/Still Moving
1. Writing about a writer is cliché. 2. Too many novels start with a journey. 3. Dreams and flashbacks are lazy plot devices. 4. Elaborate prose presented as monologue is self-indulgent. 5. Philosophy should be hidden, not overt. 6. So fucking what. 7. You fall out of one overused trope and into another. 8. You… Continue reading Hybrid [Manifesto]
Hide from the plain in the abstract. Hide from the line in the circle. Follow artistic whims. Portraits of the lost. Rich, lyrical texture. Live on the blade. Be honest with yourself. Who are you trying to please? The return of the muse. Bloodied and sick and raw and reaching. A disgusting attraction. Whatever works.… Continue reading Journal Sequence #3
From some unknown corner of the house, butterflies are emerging. I’ve liberated 4 this week. Frantically they fly towards the light. Meanwhile, I’ve been in a chrysalis of my own. Turned away from the world, writhing in chaos and conflict, evolving privately. Metamorphosing. I’m reading Perdido Street Station by China Miéville (at long last –… Continue reading Butterflies
Dual-aspect monismQuantum physicsExtreme synchronicityDepressionInternal screamingSpinozan philosophyEcstatic grinningKathy AckerManic laughterFlossingSporadic poetry compositionRiffing aphorismsForeboding in the ribcageAlone in the DarkPainting in the mindBurying nihilismTearsViolent dancingArmchair philosophyGeorges BatailleDreaming in the daytimeBleeding scabsPlatonic cravingThelemic WillPatti SmithRuminationCloud nineClaws of desperationDisappearing abyssDual-aspect monism I’m trying something out here. Looking for patterns, rhythms, connections in journaling and beauty in fragments. I’m looking… Continue reading Journal Sequence #2: A Month [Alone in the Dark]
Colour bleeds out, sounds wind down. Muffled, blind. Straight lines, thick and thin, washed in white and grey. It is winter here. Gentle snowflakes fall, though they strike as something sinister. Am I the only one conscious, the only one not a golem made of meat? Playing pieces for cruel gods. This pawn has slipped… Continue reading Flash: Colour Bleeds Out/Only Birds
In my dreams, I find motifs from the day that follows just as frequently as those from the days that have passed. It keeps me remembering that time is not quite the straight line we want it to be. I use the word motif because to me it’s the theme, the inference, of dream events… Continue reading Dreaming Motifs
In my blanket fort. If I go out there, I’ll have to be a person. Being a person now means being a machine, conforming to defined boundaries of behavior. My state is altered. Stretched beyond. Somewhat Ballardian. Climate, extreme heat. Jungian figures. A gradual falling apart. Becoming part of a world that will destroy us.… Continue reading Journal Sequence #1
The sky is turning black. It does this from time to time, only just now it’s more of a concern due to the unprecedented weight it has brought with it. I don’t know what will happen if we get crushed. I call out to Tommy, but he’s floating in the pool of melancholy wearing nothing… Continue reading Flash Fiction: The Sky Is Turning Black
I Fragments have been on my mind. II I’ve been re-editing my first book Fragments of Perception: a task I knew needed doing but I’d been putting off. I knew it needed doing because it was written in 2016, which is before I gained experience in editing, and I had haunted recollections of exclamation marks… Continue reading Fragments Have Been On My Mind
Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and/or try again.