Chop wood, carry water.

Chop wood, carry water.

I saw everything.

about to see everything.

borne of a fluke in history, to the dark we return

imperfection makes writing better.

Hours being cut at the day job means more time to write, more time to contemplate and more time to scream at the blank white page.

I need to find a way to watch The Passenger (1975).

Still think David Jonsson should be Bond.

I can’t wait to write tomorrow.

Depression Bagel. @PipelineArtists. pipelineartists.com/depressi…

impostor.

Slow Horses forever a 10/10 show.

a howl from the concrete city’s getting colder, nights shorter and we don’t know when the sun will warm again.

I can't wait to write tomorrow.

not everything has language to explain it, not even this, whatever this is, in my hands, is it a ghost or time, or air or particles, or no thing or everything or any thing, why must it have a name when I don't know my own.

“The need to go astray, to be destroyed, is an extremely private, distant, passionate, turbulent truth.” ― Georges Bataille.

here comes a harrowing winter.

ash stains on black denim and hands more raw than the last kilometre before home.

Sharing this again because it's always relevant. How often I find myself rewatching this when I feel utterly rudderless in this creative pursuit.