Most recent post

Godliness in Stone

Image
  Scene 1 It smells like… time down here. Not just damp earth or rot, but something older. A primal scent that’s been waiting in the dark for a millennium. I’m recording this at the bottom of the scar somewhere in the anomaly. In my mind, it's called the Necropolis Gully . My helmet is trying to map it—casting these sterile, digital grids over the moss and the stone—but the data doesn’t make sense. It’s glitching. It’s shuddering against the reality of this place. I don't know why I'm here, looking at ruins. Just... debris. But in the ruins, I found the ghosts of a future that never happened. I was walking over shards of polymerised memories . This was once a city.  It was meant to be the heart of a new world that... simply stopped. It wasn't an engineering failure. It was a failure of existence. Holding that slate, I felt this... weight. The grief of the architect. The "wounds of unbuilt dreams." I realised then that this isn't a graveyard for people. It’...

Moon over Desert


Hole in the Wall: Moon over Desert

Within solitude, there is self-beauty to be discovered.
Engage silence and dismiss the want to share.
And dismiss the necessity to be liked.
And love the abstract of your abyss.
Be satisfied by the soiling and scratching of time.
Whilst crawling and scampering throughout.
The same mistakes.
The same divisions.
The same crisis.

When secrets have long passed their importance.
And the desert sea shimmers under full moon.
Recognise that glorious intent is cyclical.
Without thought and without hoopla grasp this intent.
Without the need.
Without the seeing.

What is fully understood is quickly dismissed.
Your story has the greater impact.
Your synthesis of fact diminishes being.

Nothing will hurt you in your solitude.
Within cyclic patterns enable the time to feel your situation.
What is in determinism.

As an insect in forrige.
And thankful for the ambient light.
The casting your domain is difficult to define.
Let in the universe.
The stars, the planets, the reflected matter.
Shimmer and reflect your unspoken meaning.
Rejoice your memories, your shadows, loss and sense of being.
Move in cycles rather than from left to right, and back and forward.
Rather than in linear action.







Popular posts from this blog

Podcast 03 Psychological Anchors

The Kepler Kiss

Necropolis Gully