Category Archives: Writing

Lamenting Forgiveness

Once upon a lullaby, I dared to dream of only I. I dared project my Darkest Being, I dared reflect, considered fleeing.

Secret Harvest

We reap what we sow. But the seeds of plants I would not yet know, Hide their secrets; In the soles of my shoes Where my heartache grows.

The End

I used to live a life in pain, And now alive, a death in vain. The One to know my strife’s a waste; The One to see this intricate place Holds no barriers, for those like I: The Children of the Ones who die. Who die, yet return, for those who live; Who could receive […]

Squaring the Circle (or rather circling the square)

The problem of ‘Squaring the Circle’ or the ‘Quadrature of the Circle’ as it is sometimes called is an ancient geometrical problem of using only a straight line and compass (and a finite number of steps) being able to construct a square of equal area to any given circle. The problem is of course impossible […]


So I have been seriously bad about updating people as to my general comings and goings in Oz-Tralia. I thought it was about time I said something about it at least. I am going to begin by blaming my silence on the totally different quality of time I have found here. Different quality of life […]

Vipassana Meditation

An interesting proposition. I want to write about my experience at the ten day Vispassana Meditation retreat but it is important to me, for a number of reasons, that I do not in fact write about the specifics of my personal experience itself. This is most certainly and no doubt infuriatingly one of those ‘you […]

As Above. So Below.

Despite my long time fascination with the subject due to my interest in Greek philosophy, the Tarot and alchemy generally I was genuinely surprised by my ignorance that the elemental classifications are utilised in early buddhist scriptures and ideology also. This came to my attention during my recent 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat. The four elements […]

Priest of the White Circle of Love

He ran to me, gleeful and excited; Like a child, But with ancient eyes of piercing wisdom.

There are no differences… Maybe.

As per usual. I take a day off sick and how do I spend a large number of my hours of relaxation and leisure? I start randomly writing. So it keep going from this afternoon and somehow, because I included a quote or two, ended up as a essay.

We are The Machine

Why all the technophobia? We are The Machine. I am surrounded by self-loathing cyborgs in denial of their essential nature. The separation of body and object does more damage than embracing the continuum of life-flow that realises our intentions through art and artifact.

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