Every

Like every pulse, every movement, every breath,

It's moving, without a choice to stay.

Like every heat, every fire and every flame,

It's burning with no chance to lay.



It happens.....

It's been a while, but time has no shackles. 
Time decides for itself.

It decides when it wants to go slow,

And of course it decides when time just flys.

Murphy would happily agree that it's always when you're having fun!

It's been a while, but love has no boundaries.

Love chooses for itself.

It decides when you should be in it,

And of course if decides when you can't find it.

Hate would probably not agree , but love it is what makes this world turn!

Somehow still there.....

Thoughts of a million dancing lights still flash inside my mind.

The vast open space of the deep dusty Playa still surrounds me.

Smiles and hugs still leave a soft warm glow on my skin.

The smooth deep bass still softly pumps in my veins.

The feeling left inside me can only be described as some sort of magic.

The magic of the dust, the magic of Burning Man.

Something happened out there in the desert, something mystical, something real.

It is now a part of me. It is now a part of us.

My soul has grown. My mind is wide open.

The dust has finally settled, but the memories will never fade.

I will be home again soon.

Till next time Burning man.

Xx



How did he get here?

The soft chant of the greyhound race commentator echoes in the background. The odd beer glass clinks, the sound of a newspaper turns.  Condensation on the outside of the beer glass drips down. One by one, he watches each bead roll down towards the coaster below. In contrast, his toasty whiskey chaser sits ever so still beside. He looks around slowly and notices that nobody notices him. He sips his beer in silence. There is an almost velvet like serenity to the old, run down pub. His bones ache and his eyes are sore. Another beer will make it all better. He thinks.

The Giants Breakfast

The bus is like a human sardine can. Elbow to elbow, face to back and back to face. The air is warm, damp and floating with this seasons most fashionable flus. The driver is brake happy today, making the sardines jolt about in the tin can. It's like there is a giant shaking his sardine can with quick repetitive jerks to ensure the oil is spread evenly all over his juicy, salty sardines. It repeats the entire length of George Street. Obviously this giant really wants to make sure his tiny fish are shiny and moist. Every last one. I'm almost at Circular Quay and the jolts and jerks still continue. Surely the giant must be starving by now?  

Choices?

It's crazy, and very human, to complain about tiny little minute issues that we think bombard, bother, and annoy our otherwise precious lives. I'm sitting here on a train home, paid for the ticket, just ate some amazing food in a beautiful restaurant with special friends, and here I sit, opposite a man, a man born just like you and me, who is getting himself comfortable to sleep on the bench seat opposite me. It's his bed for the night. His spot to sleep, hopefully, and basically cope with life. It makes me feel like that spoilt little brat who everyone hated in the playground at school. Life is unfair like that. But I guess we all have choices. But I guess we all don't either.

I may meet you again one day

It may take even just a wink

Or the blink of an eye

Maybe the strange scrunch of the lips

A happy frown

A wrinkled smile

A look.

That deep and uncontrollably staring into each other eyes
Without even noticing, both of you

A connection between two people

Probably just a quick glance

Probably just an uncomfortable “hello”

Or a long creepy stare

Just for a flash

Before the doors of the train open

That brief second

That brief second that can feel like a lifetime

Yet sometimes, it can feel like an instant

Or it feels like it never happened at all.

But it does

And it did

And it has

I may see you again one day on the train

Or maybe not………