Moleskine Pages- Infested

'Come rid me of my second sight, my first tooth and my last bullet. I can't stand the forest fire in my spare room that threatens my paper horizon. I was induced from a womb with extravagant promises of super powers and the divine protection of Angels. Now I am infested and angry.'
This page was done during a 'blue' period, that is still to a degree ongoing. I grew tired of the seduction of hope, I am disillusioned by the idea of patience and the notion that hard work is always rewarded. I am in the process of re evaluating my life, my principles and my usual life jackets.

Moleskine Pages- Real Estate

Right on time, the go- between appeared. She brought messages from defunct estate agents selling prime acres in an upcoming, sound- proof land. We shook her hand. We stood in a row singing her praises. Invoking the Gods to give us this day our daily bread.

Moleskine Pages- The Shadows Have Pointy Ears

I'd hear his voice even when he was silent. I would breathe only when he was absent. My mother grew in a garden, she never recognised me. She channeled his thoughts and let the shadows overwhelm me.

Moleskine Pages- A Place Of Sadness

Everyone woke up when the flowers started growing. The fear was they would never stop. Fish and fowl picked up human speech patterns that they etched on every flat surface nearby. It remained a place of sadness.

Moleskine Pages- On Silent Days

His skeletons were too numerous to confine to a cupboard. He didn't even bother to hide his trail of bloody devastation. She wouldn't hear a bad word against him. On silent days, the screams could be heard for months all round. She mopped up the blood and smiled to herself. She felt lucky most of the time, he loved her true!

Moleskine Pages - Hope Is A Mental Illness

Their intention was never to cause a continental drift, or a terminal breach in the planet's emotional defenses. But words can never be taken back, and deeds can't be undone. The rounding up and culling of Blue Birds was however an act of mercy; their promise of happiness was a cruel delusion. Hope was getting in the way of pragmatism. Hope was a mental illness to be cured.

Moleskine Pages- In 1984

In 1984 paranoia set in. Our parents died in our living rooms, our children were born into the future, and even easy listening became hard.