Here's why I think you shouldn't make it the be-all and end-all of your productivity strategies
I Have Lived The Dopamine Detox, Here’s What I Think
It's sold as one of the world's best productivity hacks, but does it really work? Can you enjoy doing hard things?
Advice For My American Friends
Photo by cottonbro from Pexels You should listen to IAMX's I Am Terrified. It is a powerful, affecting piece of music that just happens to explain my melancholy and anxiety at this point. This Halloween I am terrified, not in that haunted house sort of way. Haunted houses are a game; everyone is in on it. The monsters … Continue reading Advice For My American Friends
You asked me if I would buy it. I would. I will. I would. You ask'd if I would draw it, Cap-sure it. I would. I will. I have. Your smile makes gods weep. Your s-mile makes sucks weak. - Hey, everyone. I think I am back.
The Cult of Sheep
Barlow’s eyes are shimmering, the light a sinuous display of something towing beneath. His smile pious-like, marked with an etiolated kindness, this precarious softness and this mark of an adulterating isolation that only those who'd experienced can recognize. A secret for the initiated. But Barlow is not a monk, he is dashing in his blacksuit … Continue reading The Cult of Sheep
It was on a Thursday evening, 9th August 2012, when I went to a digs party off-campus with a couple of my friends. I had a vague plan of how I wanted to end it that night, of how I would kill myself (I'm not going to disclose what that entailed). This was a significant … Continue reading An Inconvenience
He's so far away So far.. he might as well be God. Apparently ubiquitous, but demonstrably aloof and nebulous. What the fuck do you want? Do you even want? Are you even in there? Are you even here? As you sit across the kitchen table behind the Sunday Times newspaper (stop sipping the coffee like … Continue reading Inner Monologue
Brawling vet. Sweat, breath, blood, Bear the placenta. Oh, sunken eye, hard cheeks and rugged jaws. Grow pain, Pensive lines and darkening dimples. The road slams at you and all the ways scatter - fizzzle sparkle - into the ether, From whence you came, The sister to that which made you undone.
Depleted, I can't give more than I have given. Can't be anymore than what I am given. Wasting limbs and sore thoughts, Encroaching demands and taxing expectations. Spending on that which never pays. Working on that which yields nothing. And somehow I'm told this the way things. Hi everyone. I just want to tell you … Continue reading Deplete
Rooted, Facing forward, growing backwards. Clockwise hunger From the gaping mouth. Of the blackening light and the veering soul. Concussed conscience. All the shimmering and whispering of a smouldering home and scything teeth. And there you watch as my skin melts into its pores.