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"Life is supposed to be difficult," he said taking a long swig for his ornate hip flask, "It’s the struggle against the infinite violence of a universe.” I smiled, perhaps he was right or perhaps he was just an asshole making it up as he went along, but the gravity of his remark struck me unexpectedly. The default to life was indeed struggle, for all life not just intelligent life; why would I be exempt. I didn’t care for the man and his insidious gloat of pomposity. Nothing is absolute, nothing certain, which makes the possibilities boundless. The joy of life is making it from one moment to the next through adversity and earning the things the things people say about you when you arrive at your freshly dug grave carried by those you hold dearest.

Monday, 6 February 2017

Of The Colourless Dreams We Shared

We found hell in a beautiful place.Where the sun shines through sparkling dust. 

It made him pull the teeth from his face, I understood; that’s where the need grows and the spider lives.

As long as there was gold to be poured into our brains, setting pleasure alight in every nerve ending we owned, a million mad soldiers could march up our spines.

In the crystal darkness of a one roomed flat we lost our way searching for the first time the juju gave us colourless daydreams.

We lay in that cold wet place of such hazy agony and I knew he wouldn’t make it. I put my head on his chest to listen for his heart to stop beating and howled for his lost soul.  
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