“Listen and learn.”

As the dark of night sweeps across the sky, all light fades and the shadows come alive.

What is that you hear rustling in the trees?

What is it you hear whispering in your ear…

The unknown makes you heart race, your sense sharpen and puts you at the height of physical peak, but you still can’t see what is coming for you. You rely on your sight, you forget to feel the energy around you and subtle breaks in the flow of thinly spread air.

You forget your place.

You forget your secrets.

I cannot see for I have no eyes. I do no need them. My senses are beyond yours in every way, they have been moulded by that why you fear for I embraced it, welcomed it with open arms and now it belongs to me.

You thrash and flail, hoping to strike something, anything, but you efforts are wasted for I cannot be touched, not by you, not by one who ignores their nature.

Do you know what I am?

Do you know what I want…

Few have ever seen me, many more call me a myth, a fallacy, a simple trick of the mind or a story to frighten children at night but I am real. I am here, waiting, watching, always and forever for the moment you lose your focus and fall from your path. Once you do, control will be mine and you will be nothing more than a memory in my shadow.

“I, will never be a memory.”


My my my… There are lots of young parents around these days, children having children and playing house, at least for the first 6 months until it all fall apart.

Cynical as it may sound I had the pleasure of being surrounded this morning by 5 tables worth of these fledgling parents and their offspring. While they were all proud of their new accessory they had no idea what they had let themselves in for. One of the mothers went to the toilet child in arm and returned child less.

Yep, you’ve guess it. She had forgotten her baby and left her in the toilet.

A couple of minutes went by and neither she nor her friends had even noticed she was without her child. Taking it upon myself to return the forgotten accessory to its owner I wandered in to the unisex toilet to find the baby led on the changing board quite happily staring at he ceiling, though it might not be my place ot say, there was something not quite right with that child.

Cradling the baby I wander over to the group, what happened next shouldn’t of surprised me int he slightest.

“Excuse me, I believe this is your daughter.”

Turning around with a look of sheer disgust for interrupting their conversation the mothers eyes widen with terror. She snatches the child from my arms and literally pulls it close to her bosom, then scolding words are spat at me…

“OH MY GOD! How dare you touch my child.”

Screamed at the top of her lunges as if to convict a phedophile.

People from all over the shop come rushing over to see what the commotion was about. The judging eyes of her fellow rabble bore down on me, as did the eyes of everyone else in the coffee shop.


It was at this point I lost control and my composure disappeared…

“You miserable little cunt.

You left your new born baby in a fucking toilet!

People like you should never be allowed to have children. Your are the dregs of society, a crack whore who decided to fuck her way though life so she could have something that would give her a free meal ticket, a house and all the benefits that come with it. You’re so pathetic you needed to have a child so that something would love you because anything with a mind of its own will see that you’re nothing more than trash that needs to be expunged from this world.

You dare to speak to me that way when all I’ve done is help return your child to you?
The child you seemed to forget about while you sit here with your friends and pass weed under the table to each other, you pathetic little girl.

You my dear are not fit to be a mother, I can only pray that darwinism prevents you from having any more kids.”

I ranted for what must have seemed like an eternity, each bout of words dealing a hefty blow and each once cutting deeper than the last. I couldn’t stop myself, I wanted to break her… I wanted to make her cry.

The room was left in a cold silence.

Tears flooded to her eyes but no one shed to console her, they all knew what I had said was the truth.

I was angry… So very angry at everything and this young girl had to endure the eruption of emotion that had been boiling for so long.

She broke down in tears. I had achieved what I set out to achieve, but it left me feeling empty and unfulfilled. What I had said could not be taken back, it could not be unheard and I could no longer return to this place. In destroying this girls fragile ego I had shamed myself and left a mark on my soul that is shared by the cruel tyrants of the world and all of this happened because I wanted to destroy something.

Woe to the conquered.

Precious Shadows

Another day is drawing to a close, the sky a welcoming pale grey and the clouds motionless. A gentle breeze sings a song that drown out the sound of the nearby traffic. This favoured spot of peace is one that always beckons a return visit, to be so secluded that no one is even aware you’re there but close enough to touch them is a rare thing these days.

Dragonflies are playing together, a wonderful sight to behold. Both are a vibrant electric blue with wings majestically carrying them across the river with ease, insects without a single care in the world and no notice of the degradation surrounding them. It must be nice to live such a life.

Memories of the mundane events of the stay come and go life the ripples formed on the waters surface from each stone sacrificed to its current. There must have been over a thousand different faces seen today, each with its own traits, imperfections and unique allure. Many had robotic eyes indicative of a drone following the orders of a higher power, that blank unassuming look that was completely unaware of the world and anything around it, purely focused on the centre of its own universe.

Others had eyes of envy, tinted with the jade shadow of jealousy, lustfully staring down their desired prize while salivating all the while and yet none in the groups of this ilk realised they were all one and the same. Each wanted what the other had and disregarded what they already had.

All of this was seen while sat in one place unnoticed by the world, one of those rare places we ar able to hide in plain sight.

As the memories fade one such thought grabbed every spare ounce of attention until it was acknowledged, eventually breaking the focus on the dancing dragonflies who in the blink of an eye disappeared. This memory was different from the rest, it was like looking at a reflection that foreshadowed the inner world of ones soul long since buried deep in the caverns of a long since forgotten inner world.

Hours had passed and the sky had lost its welcoming grey tone and opted for a much harsher black vail, it was time to leave the comfort of seclusion.

Casting the last pebble there was no sound, no splash, no ripples; it pierced the water with precision and sank to the bottom with grace. A fitting visual representation of the memory that lingered until days end, but like many before it will be forgotten and it will eventually be nothing but a shadow of something precious almost recognised, but not quite.


It was then he realised.

His oldest friend and most trusted allie had nothing but hate for this world, it poured from the gaping wound that never healed after the loss of his love. He had only contempt for the people left and sought no longer to protect the weak and oppose the unjust, all he wanted now was absolute rule over all.

Staring in to his eyes, reaching out in the hope to find the man he once knew is not gone only buried deep in the pain of loss, he calls to him.

“Brother, it doesn’t have to be this way. It doesn’t have to end in blood!”

Clutching his sword in eager anticipation he waits for a reply but is instead met with deafening silence and a stare as cold as ice. The silence continued to roll in like dust carried across a stormy sky, the man stood before him bathed in the blood of his kinsman was now a king who had it all, but less of a man than he ever was as a solider.

“You are fool Talyn. You fight against the world and what it has become, refusing to embrace the change. This is why I was crowned, because you lack the necessary strength to spill the blood of the innocent for the needs of the future!”

Bone chilling words softly said with vicious intent broke the silence and left Talyn in disarray. Drawing his sword and taking a stance he prepares for the inevitable. Tears filling the void in his heart and drown the fires of their kinship.

“So then you are truly lost… Consumed by the power bestowed upon you by the people. I will stop you, no matter the cost!

Now take up your sword and fight me with whatever honour you have left.”

Smirking as he steps over the fresh corpses beneath his feet he draws the blade that won so many wars with a single swing. Gracefully avoiding the puddles of blood with a murderous rage in his eye and a bloodlust in his heart he charges at full force and screams.

“You blasphemous SCUM!”

Here he comes… his blade feels dull, it has lost the terrifying presence it once had.

Now’s my chance!

Blood sprays in to the sky and falls to the ground like gentle rain on a summers day. Shards of a broken blade scatter to the wind and as before all it took was single swing of his sword.

To Protect

Her hair was fragile, her skin cracked and the scars of the past worn with pride to say that she had survived, but now it was all too much. The years had taken their toll.

With silent tears in her eyes she cries;

“All these years I’ve protected you to the beast of my ability and now it’s all been taken out of my hands.”

Abject distress echoes from her quivering voice. Her eyes become filled with sorrow as she can feel what little control she had left slipping through her fingers like sand.

Trying to walk away she realises her legs become weak, as she tries to take even one step they begin to buckle under the pressure of the unknown.

Using the wall to support her weight she catches herself and a deep gulp of air is taken to squash the emotions that are reaching the surface. Through irritated breathing and broken sound she uttered;

“It was all for nothing.”

Looking across at the one proud woman who was being crushed by the pressure of his presence he stands while moving all obstacles from his path. Gently helping her to a nearby seat he leans in close enough for her to hear;

“A wise person once told me that we must learn to accept the things we cannot change, but change the things we can and have the wisdom to know the difference between the two.”

Watching as she raises a heavy head he smiles.

“I will be ok.”

I always am. He thinks to himself as memories of troubles he had never told anyone begin to surface. The journey of his past was unseen by many but it was more than enough to prepare for everything that was to come.

Staring in to those old eyes he could see true fear and the internal struggle to accept that which she cannot change. Struggling to accept that she is now a passenger on a train heading to an unknown destination.

Through all the years she had protected him and endeavoured to keep him from harm and the true nature of the world. She tried to keep their world separate from that of the rest but reality had finally set in. She begun to realise that in the end you can’t stop life from playing out, what ever is planned will happen regardless if it’s welcome or not.

He pulls her close and holds her tight.

“Try not to worry, everything will be alright. Trust me.”

Crumbling Walls

The rain has come, it decimates the cracked and crumbled walls that survived the wrath of the sun. They fall apart piece by piece, there was only so much they could take before they broke down and all I’m doing is simply sitting under my protective canvass and watching it happen.

Standing from the chair steps are taken towards the wall that is dissolving before my eyes. Each step closer is matched with a piece of the wall breaking away from the whole, some large, some small, but still pieces of the same wall.

Memories flood back of times when the wall was first erected all those years ago. The times filled with fun, games and joyful smile, the times filled with tears, bloody knees and bandages, the times where it was strong, the times where it was more than a fragile an  crumbling shell.

More than have way in to the rain it’s barely able to stand anymore… I waited too long to act, the damage was done… the damage was permanent.

The rain subsides and I fall to me knees next to what is left of the wall. It endured so much but it finally reached the tipping point and couldn’t hold together anymore. The lethal does has been exceeded, perhaps not by much but it was enough to bring it down regardless.

It is in this way armies fall, it is in this way empires end.

A ray of Sun breaks through the overshadowing clouds illuminating a shaft of dust in the air, drifting towards the sky and a place of rest. The remaining dust forms a memory in the air. Reaching out to touch it I was once again too slow and in the blink of an eye it becomes scattered by the winds.

The wall had always been there, unchanging, immovable, unbreakable, strong… now though, it was gone. By my own hand I had reached for a drink when the heavens opened and the tsunami was unleashed instead of reaching for something to protect it. It was by my hand the wall was allowed to crumble and all I did was sit and watch.

Without the wall to lean on I stand on my own, all the while not taking my eyes off the heap of rubble that lay at my feet and the knowledge of my choice. Struck with a sudden wave of emotion I feel a drop of rain roll down my cheek even though there were no clouds to be seen in the sky.

For me, it was still raining.

A Humble Fish

Looking down in to the lake I can see the fish swimming happily without a care in the world, they are not all fully grown some are still babies cheerfully following the mother, well at least for now.

I wondered where the father was.

Across from me is a fisherman watching his line with a fierce intent, waiting for it to shudder and a fish to become snagged on the hook that had that ever alluring bait on it. The poor fish will be ripped from the water and it’s life ended, no second thought to it’s family or its problems.

Do fish have problems?

Obviously they don’t worry about tax, a mortgage or bills but surely they have problems. Predators, fisherman and perhaps illness… that’s all I can think off for the problems a fish might endure. If you look at those problems in perspective they’re much worse than the ones we face, at least our problems aren’t fatal (most of the time).

Jumping from his seat he pulls the rod hard and winds it in unbelievably fast. I sit and curiously wait to see his trophy, it seems like time has slowed down as the line is hoisted out of the water and to my surprise and his annoyance there was no fish to be seen, it had eaten the bait and played him for a fool.

Quietly laughing to myself I see the fish pop its head out of the water for a brief second before disappearing, like it was mocking him. If as a fish he could talk I would expect him to say:

“I will be caught one day, but today is not that day.”

Today the fish won and he got to return to his family.

I learnt a lesson from this brief comedy that unfolded before me; No matter the problems you have they’re not as bad as that of the humble fish and if they can survive so can I.

Shades of Light

We can only see with the right shade of light, but jus because we can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

I can see the struggle each time I look at her. Moving close one second and recoiling the next, the fear of her head being bitten off in a rage of being pulled close lovingly must be very confusing but there is no other way for the time being. We can’t always protect that which we care about from ourselves in all our vulnerable glory.

It amuses me how much people worry about what they can’t change but ignore those things they can, such is the fallible habit of the human complex.

Trying to concentrate has been difficult today, everyone has wanted to acquire my attention one way or another when I am engrossed in my thoughts. Although I politely smile and converse I am carefully watching the seconds dwindle away on the clock, waiting for them to finish talking about such pointless topics. I guess my mood today is on what some might call a low ebb.

I was reading about the 5 stages of grief earlier, a topic I have never really looked in to in depth before.


Each has their own set of beautiful and unique characteristics. Many of which are easily transferred in to every aspect of day to day life, when you stop and look that is. I once described my mind like the web of a spider, how each thought is another strand in the web and another possibility but they all lead to the same eventual outcome. Basically a chaotic process elimination that only I understand.

Keeping this principle in mind I have watched one person go through all 5 stages multiple times today, while the internal mechanisms of feeling will magnify certain stages at certain times, depending on the situation you can almost always pin point where a person is and use this knowledge to either quell their suffering and calm them, alternatively you could take someone to the very edge of sanity if you were so inclined.

The hour has become late, I find myself staring out of the window in to what looks like nothing but I know that what i can’t see is a garden, a garden filled with vibrant colours, wildlife and memories. It makes me wonder about how much we fail to see that is right there in front of our eyes but it’s in a shade to dark to see through without the right shade of light.

Unreal Awareness

I hold my position while concealing myself, slightly changing the angle at which I sat allowed me to remain out of their view. This was an encounter I would rather not have and thankfully it was avoided.

Walking past without even an ounce of awareness as to their surroundings they walk past, I avert my eyes and focus one the book that had now become so tightly clutched my knuckles turned white. Staring at the pages I am surprised that they didn’t burst in to flame.

Several minutes passed and I felt the pressure of their presence staring to weaken and vanish, it is now that I can allow myself to drop my guard and unveil myself once again. Watching them walk in to the distance I can’t help but reminisce for a brief moment and think of how different my life would have been, wondering what paths I would have taken and what unrealised realities may have been.

Slowly I come back to the real world. Dwelling in the days of future past is a waste of time, there is no reason or need to think about what might have been because it never happened, but it is still nice to think about all those days spent fighting and how alive it made me feel, sadly though kids dreams are never meant to last and life moves on.

Closing my eyes I allow my hearing to reach it’s peak and take in every sound, my sense of touch begins to soar to the height of it’s sensitivity allowing me to feel even the subtlest draft of fresh air in this stuffy room. The aromas that linger in the atmosphere are both foreign and friendly, some being welcome reoccurrences and others not so much.

Listening to the voices around me the different tones and pitches tell some interesting stories, but it’s the words people are not saying that interest me the most and the tones is which they say what they do. Each has its own layer of meanings, some spoken with passion and fire, others will a bitter chill and sharp sting of jealousy, all mixed in with the mundane and senseless dribble of the monotone army.

Slowly my sight returns and start to focus. All the time I have been sat watching people I have never felt anyone watching me before. While I was curious to why the person who had been watching me watch everyone else I did not approach, they didn’t want to be seen by me, it’s best I let them think that way because sometimes it’s best to simply let things go.

I would leave her in peace, her pride intact and her secret desire known only by me.

Winding Roads

It can be hard to concentrate with unwanted noise in the background, why is it people will fight for your attention when they can see you’re engaged in something that matter to you?

The scarcity principle is one few are aware of, but then again these are the same people who are easily influenced by means such as social proof and reciprocity too, the will never learn. to lear would mean to leave their comfort zone and accept that they have been duped more time than they would every admit.

If you sit and watch the world go buy you can see those who hold none of the cards of influence, those who have the perfect poker face and bluff their way to power, finally we have the the real masters of the game… those who have all the right cards with the knowledge of how to use them and more frighteningly a remorseless attitude to use them.

Winding Roads Part 1

Can you see it?

Crouched in the corner sobbing like a scolded child… That is the once great man, the one who forever showed promise yet amounted to nothing in the end.

Now as his life draws to a close we shall know his story. The good times and the bad, the demons from the past that lingered and haunted, the reason it all went so terribly wrong.

This is the story of the man who would have had it all and more if not for that one fatal flaw…

The journey started many years ago when the skies were clear and the slums were but a whisper on then wind. A man is born of nobel blood but through sordid means his character is tarnished, the first step down the path set the tone for the rest of the journey but sadly he never had a choice.

As the years go by the man becomes a success, a success without fear or worry, free from the harrowed view of the world that was shared by his peers. At this time the road was still a simple straight line, unbeknownst to the lone maverick a fork was fast approaching up ahead, one route would lead to salvation and a future unlike any other, the second road was set towards damnation but neither gave any clue as to their true nature.

The road was filled with mystery, the shadows seemed to move of their own will as if they were alive. Owls can be heard in the dark of the night but not seen, following him, stalking him, waiting… Always waiting.

He reaches the fork and without hesitation he picks a path and doesn’t look back. There is not an ounce of fear, no hint of curiosity for the road he ignored, there is only what he can see before him and it is a long winding road.