I lost you with me. Perhaps. I apologise earnestly and full of attrition. I beg your pardon for inviting you into my soulspace, then taking you for a ride. You should have held on to the handles. It was irresponsible that you closed your eyes. You cannot give me the responsibility to watch out for … Continue reading Apologies
It's time to harvest the fruit that grew on the dung In fact, thats largely still buried beneath and within it. 33 years of dung that i could classify as fakeness an hell As stepping away from the soul and self-obliterating That i could throw away But then i would have no foundation. So the … Continue reading Dung
sometimes when I feel happiness, there is a deep, bitter sting of pain in the flesh of that fruit the contrast is a painful reminder that i've forgotten this soil exists. over many years. .
I can't stand "reading" music, I can't stand sheet music, I can't stand music lessons. You too? I can't play by ear too well either, can't sing on pitch and sometimes find it hard to tune a guitar (I can hear two tones are different, which the heck is higher?). But I still love producing … Continue reading How to learn the piano by feel: grey day meditation. (Improvisation.)
Your soul has left this house. I see this. I felt it a few days or weeks ago. It just suddenly became obvious, like a blatant and self-understood fact. * I don't know where it went. But the plaster has started falling off the walls in a few secret spots; the paint has started peeling … Continue reading Your soul has left this house. (Loss poetry.)