When I first started writing here I was open and didn’t filter anything, I spilled my mind and didn’t care who it hurt or who read it.
As more and more people found out about my blog and I gave them links and so on I found myself becoming more reserved and considering each line far more carefully than was ever the intention.

I was fine with that.

But then a moment came where I started to over-filter myself and so every post became more of a mission that something fun and so I slowed down and practically stopped. I felt like there was a standard to try to keep to.
Right now I’m going to try and abandon that standard. If a post is terrible, it’s terrible, but that doesn’t mean that it’s a failure.
While we were in Cape Town there was a picture that I took. It was a moment in time between deciding to take the picture and the actual picture being taken. That candid picture was, to me, far better than the end result and that’s where my mind has been dwelling while coming up with this post; it was dwelling on the fact that candour can be far more beautiful than anything posed.

Of course this doesn’t mean that every candid moment is good.

I’ve spoken before about my webs, my mind’s way of trying to avoid surprises. Recently the webs have been forming again and, like before, they have been complicating certain things.
One of my favourite things about my current relationship is how open I can be about everything from my own insecurities to what I think of other people.
I shared one of my webs though and it has led to an awkward situation since that particular web was apparently one that involved a subject that was a problem already.
On top of that web being a pain certain others which have formed have led to me being unable to calmly handle certain things. It’s not exactly a problem, it just means that while those things are occurring I have to be a little more aware of my own mind and where exactly it is going. So far I’ve worried without reason but the webs are such that that re-assurance isn’t exactly re-assuring.


A while back I mentioned a piece of writing that I’d considered uploading. Since this post is all about being open and such, here it is too:

ePub, Mobi and PDF

Hope you all enjoy it. 🙂



So it’s been over a month since my last post and unfortunately the reason for that is not a great one. I’ve been through two very different crashes over the last month, one physical, one emotional/mental.

I’ll start with the physical one as it’s the far more minor. On Tuesday this week I was rear-ended in traffic. The impact left me dazed and confused for a moment before I realised what had actually happened. Physically my neck was a little stiff for a couple of days but beyond that I seem to be fine.
The car however might not be. With the value of the damage so far I believe there is a chance that it’ll be written off. It’s a fairly sombre thought since I’ve grown quite attached to it.
And yet now because of someone’s inattentiveness it may be about to disappear out of my life.
On the subject of the other person, she was fine however I’m pretty sure her car was not. She was unable to find any gears and the entire front of her car was flattened.

And now onto the other type of crash…

Depression is something that has been a fairly regular part of my life. It’s something that I’m lucky enough not to have to deal with all the time, however on the other hand it does happen often enough that I sometimes wonder if I should actually see someone about it.
At the moment I’m going through a fairly bad bout of it. I’ve been unable to actually do anything I’m supposed to be doing for a long while. What that means is that my flat is a mess, I can’t face many of the people who I should have no problems with and worst is even the people I can face I feel like I shouldn’t.
The reason for that last is because a lot of the people who I care about suffer from their own problems, and a lot of them have actually given up dealing with their problems.
This leads to outbursts of negativity that actually drag me down further into the depths of my own depression. I sit here and try my absolute best to keep everyone up and when people give up even trying it makes me feel like I should just give up and not do anything at all any more. Abandon everyone and everything and just whither away to nothing.
I’ve spoken to most of the people who were affecting me, and they have responded well. They apologised for what they had been saying and truly considered me and what that’s meant is today for the first time in almost a month I’m feeling more like myself.
Anyway… That’s enough of that.

“I wondered if you would be able to actually awake this time.” The voice continues. “After all, you’ve stirred three times since we took you down.” He sniggers at this revelation and she realises what it means. She’s been asleep for far longer than she should have been.
“How long?” she croaks, her voice broken from the long sleep.
“Forty years darling.” he says joyfully. “Forty years you’ve been out of my way. The world is a wonderfully different place now.”
A new voice cuts in in a whisper and the man falls silent for a while after the whispering stops. When he speaks again she can hear the frustration in his voice.
“I would love to continue this chat however duty calls.” he says bitterly. “Out of respect to who you used to be, I’m leaving you with an assistant. She will help orient you with this new world. After all, being a Prince is no fun if there’s no one to hate you.” he laughs loudly as he leaves. She continues to lie in her sarcophagus for the longest time before finally rising and staring at the young girl standing next to the mausoleum door.
Her head swam but she forced a smile.
“Hi.” she managed before she blacked out once more.

New Project?

So, in amongst everything else going on at the moment, (new part time job, new challenges, new goals) I mentioned a potentially new story that was floating around my mind. Tonight I actually wrote the first part of it. It’s a very short section but here it is anyway.


A woman entombed in stone slowly wakes up. She tries to move but finds her body restricted by something cold and heavy. A moment of claustrophobia takes her before memory begins to return.
She’s a vampire.
It takes her a moment to process this revelation, a moment that seems to drag out with images of… something.
As that thing takes shape she realises that she’s been asleep for a long time, in a state that vampires call Torpor. She remembers being beaten by a small faction who opposed her.
She remembers they opposed her because she was the Prince of the city.
Rage sends a pulse through her and she pushes up against the stone entombing her. It resists for a moment but then lifts just the slightest amount. She manages to push it far enough to the side to be able to see and feel the cold air on her face.
Again she pushes and this time the stone lid slides off the sarcophagus and crashes to the floor. The sound echoes weirdly in the room she’s in.
“Welcome back.” A voice says, sending chills down her spine.
It’s the voice of the man who deposed her.


I don’t have a name for the story yet even though I have a vague idea of where it will go. The first few chapters will probably follow the protagonist above, but from there I think it might move to someone else. I’m looking forward to writing again.

Still Alive

Somehow I am still here. Not in the physical “I’m still breathing” sense, that’s not entirely surprising, but rather in the “I’m still blogging” sense. I didn’t expect to still feel any draw to the site after the first couple of months had passed. And yet here I am, a year and four months later. I’ve shared my life as well as my work on here and I still don’t feel like I’m ready to disappear again.

Which is good I guess.

But on the other hand I do feel guilty for not posting often. And I feel guilty when I post too often. It’s a weird balance that I have to keep in my own mind.

The reason for today’s post though is so that maybe I can get something new started. I’ve been thinking of another story. This one I have not written before but the storyline itself feels fairly familiar to me. It promises to be interesting, or at least, what has happened in my head has been interesting so far. Right now though I’m worried about it since the last time I wrote, I didn’t feel entirely comfortable.

Having said that though, I do want to get writing again.

Anyway, hopefully the next post will be with the beginning of the story, the opening scene which sets the premise for everything else. It’ll be loosely based in the ‘Chronicles of Darkness’ rules and world. I say loosely because I hope not to let the rules get in the way of the actual story.

Soon we shall see if my worry is unfounded or not.

Where to restart

So, somehow it’s been a few weeks since my last post. I honestly have no idea how that happened. During that time I’ve been on leave (during which I actually went away) and have had various wonderful and awful things happen.

I’m going to gloss over most of those though.

What I can start with is the fact that I’ve been learning Japanese using Duolingo. It’s been interesting, with a fairly high level of frustration in certain areas. Mostly it’s been going into the sentences, things like “John is American” are not exactly simple to figure out from the hiragana and unfortunately I forget what some of them sound like now and again.

Which isn’t a problem when I’m translating to English, but it’s a huge problem when I’m translating to Japanese. Now with other languages (French for example) when you put in the French words it reads them for you. But for some reason they don’t do that for Japanese, a language that uses what could very well be an alien alphabet when I’m under pressure.

So that’s been interesting as I said before.

Beyond that I’ve still been gaming. I’ve been getting better at both Dota and CS:GO, with the former getting to the point where I’m actually getting a little more confident. The latter isn’t going badly either, although competitively I’m still facing more losses than wins.

Anyway, for now that’s all the updating that I’m going to spill, but below is hopefully the last bit of that dream that I started in the previous two posts. I hope that it doesn’t feel as awkward as the previous section.


After what seems like hours of the mindless meandering we arrive in a room which is unlike the others. It lacks the mind-boggling perception of the corridors we took to get here and standing on a table in the middle of the room is a doll’s house, front up hiding its contents.

Slowly we approach the model, my companion seemingly wary of it. I can’t help but understand that feeling as I feel my own heart pounding in my chest, fear clutching at my throat and making it hard to breathe.

Once we’re close enough to inspect it I lean forward and look in through one of the windows. To my horror I see someone moving around inside, checking the windows and staring out at us but apparently not seeing us.

I realise as she pauses at another window that it is the girl from the foyer, except she is unarmed now and wearing a pale blue dress not unlike the one Alice is depicted in in most of the Alice in Wonderland renditions.

“This is a problem.” my companion states matter of factly, looking around the room as if looking for something specific. I turn to look at him, inviting elaboration.

“We have to destroy this model to get out, but when we do the real house will start to collapse. We’ll be able to get out fine, but if we start without her knowing, she could die.” he explains coolly.

“Can’t we get her out?” I respond curiously, leaning closer to the glass as if to try and let her know we’re here.

“Not without going in ourselves.” he replies grimly, “and even then it’s not likely we’d make a clean escape. The best option right now is to leave her be and hope.”

“There must be something we can do.” I can hear the whine in my voice, the hatred of helplessness coming through but he just shakes his head.

“There isn’t always a solution to everything.” he says, walking over to a corner table and ripping off a leg. He returns to the house. “Which side of the house is she in?” I point to the last window I saw her at and he nods.

“Luckily on the same side that we are.” He says before swinging the leg down on the opposite side of the house. A crunching crash shatters the silence and the floor seems to lurch under our feet again. I somehow manage to keep my balance and take off after him as he begins to sprint into the corridors again.

I can hear the house starting to fall, the initial crash now followed by various creaks and smaller crunches that I can only assume are floors, walls and ceilings becoming nothing but rubble. As we run I wonder whether we’ll be able to make it out in time.

As if in answer the ceiling above my head starts to droop and then falls away, the board landing on the floor just behind me before the walls collapse in as well.

“Almost there.” my companion reassures me and sure enough as we round the next corner the entrance hall comes into view. We rush down the stairs, having to dodge the steps that disappear before us but somehow make it to the door and out just in time. There we wait, watching for the girl.

The house collapses with no sign of her.

I stand there staring blankly at the rubble, unable to believe what I had gone through or the fact that the girl was gone. Slowly I start to walk towards the broken building, wondering where to even start.

“I see you two survived.” I hear the commander’s voice behind me, obviously talking to my companion but I ignore it, focusing on not losing my footing as I venture into the rubble and over it, looking everywhere for some hint that she could be here still.

Some time later I finally find her. In what I can only assume was a stairwell she lay sprawled on the floor on her back. She looked like she had been knocked out by falling debris, bits of roof and ceiling lying all around her, a large gash in her forehead. Strangely she’s still wearing the Alice in Wonderland dress.

I move over to her and check her for other injuries before slowly lifting her and moving to carry her out.

Standing on the rubble, looking over me with a glint of approval is my companion. I glare at him, anger bubbling inside me for no reason I can find as I make my way over the rubble and to safety.


So over the last few weeks I’ve been getting back into my gaming, which I’ve spoken about recently.

Last I wrote it was still half and half on whether it was going to continue properly. Since then I’ve gotten to the point where I feel like I’m holding my own in matches, both in Dota as well as CS. I wouldn’t say I’m competitive just yet, but at the same time I don’t feel like I’m holding my team back anymore.

What does this mean in the grand scheme of things? Nothing really. It just means that for me it’s a little more enjoyable than it was before. I don’t mind playing terribly. But when you’re in a team of five, any one person not carrying their weight leads to a terrible experience for everyone.

That’s not to say I’m not having bad moments. In the last game I started terribly (Dota), feeling like I was being left behind by the rest of the team. Until we started roaming together, at which point from the kills we managed to score I caught up in levels and net worth and so was able to start providing a meaningful contribution.

What I also found was that I was using my spells in a completely different way from what I was used to. I was using them for utility rather than for damage and that in itself is a great little piece of progress.

Anyway, onto why I actually came here. Let’s try and not screw up part two of last night’s story 🙂


Having seen what had been living in the house where I had been staying I couldn’t take it anymore. And so I moved to another abandoned house. This one was a bit more remote. From what I had heard it was tied up in so much red tape that no one wanted to buy it and so despite the fact that it was a mansion, it was uninhabited.

I wasn’t complaining.

I look around, once again waking with a start. I’m certain I heard a footstep downstairs, the entrance hall just outside my door. Cautiously I peer around the corner and I see a lady slowly walking in from the main doors.

My eyes are drawn to her left hand in which she’s holding a hand crossbow with a loop on the front. Although I can’t see clearly from where I am, I catch a reflection off the tip and it confirms my suspicion.

This woman has the same kind of bolt as the man from before.

“You again.” his voice comes from behind me. I turn nonchalantly, trying to hide my surprise at not having heard his approach at all.

“Who is this?” another voice asks, a woman this time, from in the shadows in the corner of the room.

“I bumped into him on my last job.” he explained to the shadow. I turned to look back to the woman in the hall but she was gone. At the back of my mind I wondered whether she was in fact the shadow.

“Coincidence. Get him out of here.” she commands. The man seems to consider this for a moment then shakes his head.

“I don’t think it was. I’m going to keep him with me.” he responds before handing me a hand crossbow from deep within his trench. “Point and shoot, it won’t hurt any of them.” he says with confidence. I take it and stare down the sight before lowering it, keeping it mostly level.

“This is on your own head if it goes wrong.” I sense her leave somehow, wondering where she went considering there were no other exits to the room.

“Don’t make me regret this.” he says gruffly before leading the way out into the corridor. I have no idea where we’re going or even what we’re looking for but I follow nevertheless, crossbow ready, expecting something around every corner.

It isn’t long before we hear a sound that does not belong, a deep sighing sound that somehow doesn’t seem human or animal.

“Shit.” he says as I hear a creaking behind me. I turn quickly, raising the crossbow and firing at a silhouette against the one wall.

The shattering sound of glass precedes the splattering of water and a slight hissing sound.

As the hiss becomes louder the ground heaves and shivers throwing me to the floor.

“Well done newbie, it’s the house.” he says angrily. He grabs me by the collar and lifts me roughly before leading deeper into the house, moving far quicker now.

Somewhere in the distance we hear a scream and then a sucking noise which ends the former. I say nothing, focusing on reloading the crossbow, trying not to think of what may have just happened.

“We need to find the heart.” he says quickly, his voice rushed but despite the fact that I’m already feeling tired, he doesn’t sound like he’s working at all. I follow him at this quickened pace, starting to need to push myself but not wanting to let him down.

As we move further the house begins to start playing tricks on us, the corridors become formless and indistinguishable and I can swear that we pass the same ‘landmarks’ multiple times. I don’t question it only because the man seems to know what he’s doing, although I do notice that if we get to a fork or a turn, he always goes left.


Well, it seems like there will be another section after this, although it’s likely to be far shorter.  I do feel like this section is less interesting and less well written than the previous but right now it’s not really about that and more about actually getting this story out there. Hopefully tomorrow evening I finish it and then I can get to the point of this section of posts.


Weakness has been a recurring theme in my thoughts on what to write lately. I’m not sure if it’s such a bad thing.

You see in seeing weakness in yourself you can address it, work at it, strengthen those places that need reinforcement and move forward.

On the other hand though you can look at your weakness and loath yourself because of it, hating that you can’t do it alone or can’t seem to ask for help or don’t seem to be able to progress or whatever is the result of your weakness.

I had a dream a little while ago which I thought at the time, I should definitely write that one out. Now though it’s a faded memory with a couple of scenes that stuck in my mind. Why didn’t I follow through on that thought? Because I didn’t think I’d be able to do it justice. Which is stupid.

If you don’t try, you can’t fail.

If you don’t try, you can’t succeed.

So which is more important? Not failing? Or not succeeding? Most of my life I’ve lived by the first. Lately though I’ve had something that’s been driving me to try the second and for the most part it has gone pretty well.

But the last couple of weeks have been hard on myself and that inspiration. I’ve found myself turning inward and losing myself in my own mind more and more often. And it’s holding me back just as it did before.

So now, despite the fact that that dream of mine is a couple of weeks old, and my mind is still telling me I’m going to mess it up, here it comes.


I wake up with a start, looking around at the shattered remains of my life; the dark, dingy and abandoned building where I’ve been staying since everything fell apart. I sigh deeply, shaking my head before putting my palm to my forehead. It’s been two weeks since I left my flat, leaving almost everything behind. I still can’t tell you why I did it either, nevermind the fact that I’ve been pondering that point ceaselessly for just as long.

Slowly I stand, something making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, that feeling of being watched coming on strong. It hasn’t been unfamiliar in this place but this time it’s stronger than usual and somehow, this time I can also feel something else.

There’s a sense of hate in this moment.

I reached down and picked up my pack, keeping my back to one of the walls as I slowly sidle out into the passage. There I start to jog, heading for the entrance, no longer mindful of what I’m putting behind me, everything telling me “It’s time to get out.”

I do exactly that.

Standing on the street outside I look back at the house, my head cocked slightly, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened, checking at the windows and door to see if I can spot anything that could have been giving me the feeling of being watched.

There’s nothing at any of them.

“You’re lucky to be alive.” A gruff voice says beside me. I jump away from the sound, turning in the air and landing in a defensive stance. A man is standing there wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a crimson trench coat made of what looks like leather. He exudes an air of confidence but more than that he makes me feel distinctly inadequate.

“What are you talking about?” I can’t help but ask. He turns to me, curiosity in his dark features. I can’t see his eyes through the shadows of his hat but I can see the stubble across his chin and cheeks, scars causing criss-crossing patterns of places that have no hair.

“With how quickly you got out, I thought you already knew…” he pauses after he speaks, obviously considering something. “It’ll be easier to show you, come with me.” his voice holds a note of command that I feel it would have been nigh impossible to resist even if I wasn’t curious to see what he was talking about.

He leads the way back into the house, walking with absolute confidence. As he crosses the threshold he draws what looks like a crossbow with a ‘water bolt’ loaded into it. I note a piece of string from the tip of the bolt to a reel on the underside of the crossbow.

As I follow him the feeling of unease comes back, that feeling of being watched by something that loathes me.

“It doesn’t like you.” he says conversationally, not turning back to look at me at all, his mind focused on something else. I don’t say anything in return, I have nothing to say.

Suddenly he stops and turns, lifting the crossbow and bringing it to bear, his wrist resting on my shoulder. I hear a twang and then another before the shattering sound of glass and the hissing of acid follow. Quickly now I duck and turn, looking up at a beast that has half of its face melting away. My mind can’t fully comprehend what it’s seeing, the facial make-up of this thing too alien to process.

I watch helplessly as it slowly topples forward, its body falling towards me. As I brace myself for the impact that must surely come the thing turns to mist and disperses around me.

Silence follows in that moment, my heart in my throat.

When I look back to where the man had been I find only air.


Well, oddly enough this isn’t even the part that I remembered. There is another section coming, hopefully soon.

The Fallen, etc…

Right, today’s post might be a little longer than usual, it’s been a while since I wrote and there are a fair few things that I’ve wanted to write about. First up, I’ve finished writing the Fallen, and ahead of schedule as well, so at the end of this post will be the links to the full first draft. From here on it’s edits and refinements and expansions and so on. The real work starts now.

And now on the etc…

First off, a friend of mine has gotten herself into a situation where a few people have decided that she’s not actually just a friend. This has led to a couple of awkward situations thanks to the fact that she does actually have someone in that role and so she’s had to deal with expectations that she could not possibly fulfil.

This situation has led me to look at a few of my own interactions with people. And what I found there was quite a shock.

Now, I’ve always had an issue where I often assume more than there actually is, and this might very well just be an extension of that, but a few people who I have dealings with have shown signs of a similar expectation of me, and a couple of comments that have come out over the last couple of weeks are now seeming more ominous than they should.

I’m hoping that I’m over-reacting, or otherwise creating these situations in my mind so it doesn’t feel left out, but if I’m not I have to be wary because many of the people in question have good reasons why I should not be involved with them. Or rather, I’ve created good reasons.

Next, I’ve been gaming a lot lately and I’ve discovered a few things about myself. First off, I battle to stick to one game for long. This is something I’ve always known but I think there are a couple of reasons for it. I find I spend longer in games that have truly fantastical settings, and even longer in games with an open world element to those settings.

Games with closed stages I don’t play for long at all, and games in realistic settings, even those with large open worlds, I tend to play for shorter periods of time. One of these games was Fallout 4.

It’s an amazing setting with a great open world, but it’s semi-realistic. I found that despite the RPG element I got bored fairly quickly. I wasn’t sure why and I’ll probably go back but today I think I’ve made progress figuring out why.

I’ve been playing Ghost Recon Wildlands over the last couple of days in the open beta. Now, ignoring the little bits of the game that are broken and the atrocious vehicle physics (which were actually a source of more hilarity than frustration) I found that I felt alone in the world. Sure, I had three squad members with me, and there were pockets of enemies everywhere, the world was lifeless and bland and scripted.

((Full disclaimer here, I love the game and if it weren’t for being a little cash strapped I would have pre-ordered it))

Now one might say that Fallout is not the same, that there are many random events going on all over the map and sure, that is true. Patrols, random encounters with quest givers and a dog all make the world feel more alive, but still it always felt scripted. There was always a situation to be resolved and it was always fairly predictable. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it makes the world feel rigid.

So I looked at other games, ones that I played for ages. Skyrim and Dragon’s Dogma were the two that I looked at. Skyrim is a giant open world in a fantasy setting so it doesn’t ever feel too realistic. It has random encounters and lots of interesting things to explore and although the side quests tend to be pretty repetitive RPG standards, there was always more to them, a level of writing absent in most other games. Skyrim also had encounters spaced so that you often came across factions fighting or villages being attacked or that sort of thing. And with the modding in of civil war battles it had a lot of promise (before my old computer stopped being able to play it 😛 )

With Dragon’s Dogma it was different. Again an open world, but this one was smaller and slightly less open. It also had various different regions that had to be loaded. But the world was more alive. You couldn’t go anywhere without running into something, and even once I had levelled up so far that nothing was strong enough to face me I kept running through the standard game, start to finish without switching to hard mode, because there still felt like there was so much life in the world.

Which comes to board gaming. Board gaming is fun because of a number of reasons. First off, no scripting. Generally everything happens organically because of the players or the rules of the game. There are often no real ‘set pieces’ that you come across. Even in board games that have set pieces in general, you normally don’t come across the same ones in the same order more than once.

And then tabletop gaming and pen and paper RPGs add more complexity to physically playing nerd games. The only problem is the social aspect. You have to have someone to play with and most of the time at least two other people. This is frustrating when peoples’ schedules don’t line up, or a couple of the people involved keep backing out at the last minute.

Of course then there are physical activities as well. Things like Judo, Ju Jutsu, Bumper Soccer and the standard sports (cricket, rugby, soccer and so on) which are amazing fun or horrible torture depending on a number of things, normally again related to those you are playing with at whatever event it is.

Onto other things, I’m writing a new story now. It’s progressing at a snail’s pace but it’s progressing. I do not know whether I will actually post it as well, at least not until the Fallen is in its final form, but I will find out tonight whether I should or not. I have someone that can advise me 😛

Anyway, here are the links to the full first draft of the Fallen. Hope you all enjoy it and I look forward to hearing feedback of any form.

EDIT: I’m also looking to get a cover for at the very least the kindle version so if anyone would like to submit something I would be happy to see it. Just throw a link into the comments.

The link:

PDF, Kindle, ePub

And as before, my email address is on the about page if you’d like to donate to me.

Death, Affection, Fear, Anxiety and Separation and Chapter Thirteen

Where to begin…

Let’s start with the bits that aren’t in the title. I’ve had an interesting couple of weeks, the story has progressed far further than expected, I’ve almost burnt out at work, a friend that resurfaced has done so in a way that I would not have expected at all and a friend that I held in very high regard turned out to be more than I thought.

I also rejoined a website that I thought I’d put behind me, something I had been considering for a while but that I hadn’t gotten around to. As I finished the paragraph above I got a message asking me back and so I’ve gone back. It’s certainly going to be an interesting experience since the primary focus will be role playing.

Anyway, onto the above.

Death. I’ve always had an odd relationship with death. Very few people have affected me when they have passed, very few animals have either. I tend to get over death far quicker than society would see as normal, especially the social circles that I tend to find myself in. Today was the first time I witnessed it first hand and although I was there only as support for someone else it still affected me in a way in that moment.

But instead of feeling the mourning of passing, I felt relief for what was happening, I saw the future brighter than the present and so the death did not seem like a bad thing. I feel horrible for that fact, and I feel sympathy for those who lost a pet, but beyond that so far as death itself is concerned, I am still neutral.

Affection is an odd thing. It’s something that people show or don’t, crave or despise, understand or fear. Personally I show it and crave it but I do not understand it. I don’t fear it though, otherwise I’d be pretty screwed with the other two parts. One of my biggest problems is always figuring out how, when and who to show it to. Some people look like they need it, but you try and give it and they panic and freak out, or they take it as something it is not.

It’s a dangerous thing despite being something I truly believe is a good thing.

Which brings me to my next bit. Fear. What if I show affection at the wrong time? A few of the elements of my life at the moment hinge on the balance of affection. Too much and it will chase the person away, too little and they will drift away. Where is the pivot? I don’t think I’ll find out anytime soon.

And so anxiety builds. I know that there is a time limit on these things, I’ve had that happen too many times not to know that. But I don’t want to rush anything, there are too many factors that need to resolve, too many thoughts that need to be processed, too many dangers to overcome. So I remain cautious as my mind slowly decays into a nervous wreck.

One of the biggest difficulties is the flight response that I’ve spoken about recently. At the moment there is a separation between myself and someone who I don’t know what to think about and that separation should be eating at me. But it’s not. Somehow it hasn’t really changed anything in how my mind is working. At the back of it there is always that acknowledgement that the separation exists but beyond that… Nothing. My mind is treating this like the separation does not exist.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing yet.


Finally, I wrote two chapters in this interval. The pace is picking up and so the chapters are going by quicker so here we go.

Chapter Thirteen:

PDF, Kindle, ePub

And as before, my email address is on the about page if you’d like to donate to me.


Something Beautiful

This post will be a little different to usual. I do not know exactly how it will go or where it will go.

First up, sunflowers. Sunflowers have been an important item in my life for quite a while. Ever since I first saw The Sin Eater I have often had them in my mind and they have had a special place in my heart. At certain times during the year, on my way to Nottingham Road there are often sunflowers along the highway and they always life my heart.

The next bit is where things differ my my normal fare here.

A field of grass and rocks spreads out as far as the eye can see. Everything there is either bland and boring, or hard and cold. Even though every entity there is unique, everything looks the same, each cluster of rocks just like every other, each blade of grass swaying in time with others around it.

Here and there are patches of colour, groups of flowers red and blue, but even here where there is difference, there is still a sameness.

A boulder juts out of the centre of the field, easy to dismiss and like so many others it is unremarkable on its own.

But at its side, standing taller than almost anything around it is a sunflower, its bright yellow petals setting it apart from even other sunflowers in the field. It stands alone near the boulder, facing the sun as the light bathes the field.

As night begins to fall, the flower lilts to the side and for a moment it touches the boulder. In that moment a light dusting of yellow pollen spreads to the boulder and the following morning, unlike every other morning, that boulder becomes as unique as the flower beside it.

A single act can change the world, a single moment that leaves its mark. Something out there will always make the world a brighter place even in this time of grey and green blandness.



The youtube playlist is a series of songs that played while the event above came to mind. Hope you enjoy it 🙂