When facing fears, perhaps a shared feeling from somebody else, a friend or not, just anybody who can say “me too”, is the best armour there is.
One of the Colony
Recently, on holiday with my family, a restaurant we visited was encumbered by flies, to the point where after each chip consumed I found myself swatting the air with ire. Whether or not the flies were declaring war on my family, and using our food as a symbol of conquest each time they landed, only to secure a narrow escape, I do not know. What I do know is that many of the little buzzing devils died during their efforts.
A Double-edged Curse
Have you ever lost a loved one? War, disease, pure accident. They all occur every day. Any veteran of life can tell you that, with a hard edge to their eyes that whispers, “I’ve been there.” But what about that nagging ache inside us to exact some form of…balance, or perhaps even justice?
Beneath the Glass
The dedication or devotion to a thing, in an immoderate and/or compulsive standard or quantity. What I’ve just paraphrased, folks, is the Oxford English Dictionary’s online definition of the term “addiction”. Alcohol, drugs, food, exercise, loud music, reading, sleeping. Can we be addicted to any of these? I’ve never tried drugs, but the others, conglomerated […]
Purging the Pure
Genocide, racialism, the Holocaust, they are each horrific examples of purity being deployed as a justification for crimes of war. They are the worst examples, antithetical, ultimately, of what it really means to be righteous. And who is it who declares that these people are ‘sub-human’? Who is it who cannot see past their opaque egos?
At the Mercy of the Benighted
What makes us so happy when our countryman wins a tournament, we make it to the world finals, and the weather is so wonderful? The answer, in part, is faith.
The Second Gate
Why do we grieve and who do we grieve for? Guest Author Shaun Carter ponders the place of death’s poignancy and its accompanying grief in all our lives.
Emperor of the Mundane!
The 28th June. As far as I’m aware, no grand personal achievements, no incorruptible friendships, no tragic conclusions, have affected my life on this particular date. Sometimes we have days where not a lot happens. Take my last twenty 28th Junes.
Fallen Stilts
A poem that speaks to grief and loss, asking us to examine the trap of succumbing to our own limitations.
Vicariously…Failing?
Are we all guilty of living the lives of successful people more than our own lives at times? Do we sometimes forget how special we all are individually?