Wonderings in wandering

  Life is labour. All is entropy. From the moment we're born, we decay. We must feed to renew, we must breathe to energise. We strive to prolong a life we never asked for, living inside a machine needing contant maintenance against built-in redundance. What an existence!

Woken at 07:45 hours, this day as every for the past God-knows-how-many mornings. He stopped counting months ago. Familiar shouts and clattering, steel on steel. He’s never been in such constant company. If he can’t see them, he can hear them. If he cant hear them, he can smell them. Two hundred and fifty God-forsaken souls bouncing off the concrete walls. And yet, never has he been so lonely. In the middle of this swirl of doing, coming and going, he plays the game of acquaintance, unpleasant pleasantries exchanged on the landings when custom, advantage and survival says he must. But he dreams of solitary, a box just for him. A place of quiet, or quiet as it gets. Lonely for solitude and spiritual guidance, gently closing the door while all others slam. Lonely for recognition, his currency no use where his is now, he trades in sensitivity, not noise and bravado. Lonely for connection, the true self hidden, protected by ever thickening walls of stoicis

  Who are ‘They’? You know, the ones who said it would rain today. Are they the same ‘They’ that claim a glass of red wine a day is good for you? Or are they the ‘They’ that decided quinoa, blueberries and chia seeds needed a superlative? ‘They’ said the pandemic would change everything, ‘They’ promised a new normal. But then again, ‘They’ promised to be carbon neutral by 2030. ‘They’ say mental illness is on the rise yet ‘They’ are spending unprecedented resources on it.   [Oh, you mean the ‘They’ who raise wages? Or the ‘They’ who let inflation spiral?] Which ‘They’ is it who are calling for Peace? The ‘They’ that call for ceasefires? Surely not the same ‘They’ that are profiting from arms sales to rich warlords and using hateful speech on ‘Their’ platforms? These are the ‘They’ who hide behind a pronoun when delivering news of death, poverty, corruption and failure. The same ‘They’ who suddenly personify when plaudits, praise and popularit

Woken early by my black dog growling at another rabbit hole, pulling at the leash to dig out some sorrow or fear to bring back home and leave at my door. And there it would stay, if I were in charge. But today my Ego stands waiting for His treat and carries it into my mind. And there He starts his dissection. Pulling apart the fresh, raw, sinewy emotions, Ego searches for what disgusts and repels Him, what challenges His very existence. Where He finds it, He creates suffering that wasn’t there before. He relishes this for it is his life force, this is the stuff of anxieties, hatred and misery which He pushes onto me as the proof of why I should be what I should be. He points to where I’ve been wronged and stokes my fires of self pity, anger and indignation. Whipping up within me what He needs to survive, an identity different to ‘those others’, so its me and Him versus the world. But its not. I want no part of His critical joy, the self

  I’ve seen miracles happen before my eyes, witnessed empty souls become human again. More than human, I’ve seen them struggle and fight against an invisible, yet all-consuming, foe. One who is dark, deceptive, relentless and cruel. I’ve watched them grow with a determination, grace and humility unknown to the masses. They have found new depths of consciousness and understanding worthy of any monk or mystic. Dark eyes once sunken now lifted and bright and skins pallor now blushes with hope. And, yes, I’ve seen them fall and flounder but never fail because once they have seen how it can be, it doesn’t leave them. We may be pulled back under, time and again by our demon of choice, but each time we resurface with precious lessons learned. Recovery is not just change, for change is too small a word. It is not merely putting down the bottle, ditching the pin or putting out smoke. Its not just quitting. It’s starting again. It is renewed vitality, a d

  Does anyone know where i can get a new mind? Mines not  what it used to be, knackered neural networks.   I dunno if it picked up a virus, some kind of Trojan thingy. Or if the coding is just outdated, defunced.   It doesn't save when I want it to, the graphics seem blurred and the sound only really  works in one speaker.   The spell check has never worked, and Excel is a mess. Its takes a good hour to boot, usually accompanied with a faint smell of burned rubber.   I don't mind a refurb, As long as the processor is decent and it doesn't whirr, buzz or overheat. Not like it'll have to mine bitcoin!   The kid down the road with the glasses says he could soon build me one from scratch, all he'd need is a few hundred quid and  the "specs" I wanted.  He said it'd be all new Better, faster, stronger than before, wouldn't get overwhelmed by data and less likely to suffer breakdowns... ...but who'd be programming it?   Maybe I'll stick with what