I want a beautiful branch to land upon when I am tired flying A blue branch not a blue vein transparent Irish hungry kind of blue but blue, bleue and beautiful. I want a face to chew upon when my own face disgusts me A living face not a corpse bitch leave me now would you fuck you love you …
I’m sitting up in bed with my laptop in its place. Close to the sea, our windows get encrusted with salt. Distant magnolia behind blobs of sand and cobwebs mean it’s early summer. The ivy has claimed a third of my view, dark sinews clutching the glass. A piece even steals through the corner of the frame. When I’m not …
Much has been made of the new normal. The term is enjoying a resurgence (was it ever desurged, or unsurged) in coverage of the Covid-19 international year-long shitshow meets clusterfuck, for which those two delicious swearwords were probably invented. The worst of humanity and the best of humanity go from smooch-dancing to ignoring each other on a dancefloor of shit …
When you finally pause long enough to take stock When the juggernaut of chaos rolls to a gentle stop The first feelings of relief washed away by grief For your lost and wasted time. Though the tears of regret might fill a lake, You will empty, though never entirely There will be time left for you to enjoy And nothing …
Just get started. Action trumps thought every time. Doing beats thinking. You can’t think your way out of a paper bag, you have to grab it with both hands and rip it apart. Just. Get. It. Done. I can guarantee for every problem you have; action is the solution. Sometimes, on rare occasions the appropriate action is to do nothing. …
The car on the way to school is a great place to impart wisdom to the young. That’s how my 11-year-old became this morning’s victim of my current enthusiasm for all things habit-formation. Obviously, this is just what a kid wants to be listening to in his last ten minutes before the daily state-sponsored (in Ireland also church-sponsored) oppressive indoctrination …