Art is self-expression, not an appeasement; in the realities that we reflect we must see a part of ourselves; it is the embodiment of our interpretations, not the mere transmission of the ideas of others.

From Reveries and Rumination


Pocket Bios .1

A stealer of time, in the prison of his mind, flying in circles, dreams like dust, walking, waiting at the cusp.


Inner Strife

Inner strife is timeless; it is the continual decision, to and fro unremittingly. It is an arduous battle, and both duelers will die, with the victor being the one who comes back to life.


In daylight he’s sleepwalking, at night he lies awake looking at the stars daydreaming.. .

Often our days feel tedious, and we go to bed tired, like all people do. But we also wake up tired, feeling drained, our activity an answer to our fear; a fear of the chasm that awaits the idle and the alone. 
Who wakes you up?
Your alarm? 
What is alarming? 
The incoming tide that engulfs the sands of time?
Are you afraid of being washed away?
You will be washed away eventually, you and your sandcastle; the rest are just shells someone will collect, in due time.
So what are you doing? Where are you going?
Back to sleep?
You are dying, and yet you are plodding.
Do not let your heart die before your body does.
Live a dream, of reason.
Be a symbol. Have meaning.
Reflect; do not be a shadow that never sees the sun.
Procrastinate not; it is as if we dream whilst looking at the stars because they are far away, yet we retreat from the call of the day, and the star that draws close, shining in our face.
Ask yourself, do you awake, or are you awoken?


I struggle not to slake this ache that shakes me, it makes my dreams, then breaks them and wakes me,
I struggle to not be in a muddle, to be a rake befuddled, and take a lake as if it’s a puddle.
It’s a doddle to diddle and be in the middle fiddling, looking like I’m piddling whilst my mind is twiddling,
it’s a riddle how to walk straight when you’re twoddling, but I guess cuddling is muffled coddling, and you have to hustle hard to model a sovereign!


Inner Circle

The weight of our choices, and the gravity of our final condition, rests solely on our own shoulders. But remember, your circle of friends will either be a garland or a noose on the Last Day.

So look to who you take as a friend,
because your circle is a mirror,
and you will die at the circle’s end.