61. The House of Tomorrow

Although it may appear to some that I am a controlling individual, I plead innocent. My wife and I have two…

177. Where is your spiritual home?

Where’s the place that makes you keep coming back?

Trace It Back

The line to Blue Monday was drawn with fear and lack of control.

Broken may be the dishwasher, lawn mower, truck, boy’s labrum and dog’s right rear hind quarter.

Selfishly selfless

I want to tell my story.

I want to tell it so fucking bad.

I feel like that is what I am meant to do.

I need to share my tragedy and then triumph to the world so that those in a current tragic state can know that all…

The Garden of Broken Dreams

I sit in the garden and listen to the wind rustle the leaves and fronds of trees planted long before my time…

Suspicious.

I’m suspicious of people who are really keen on me at first meet, or in the early stages of dating. I’m suspicious because I don’t feel they can know me enough to know whether I’m someone that’ll fit them. Their keenness is a turn off, because in my mind it means they see me as someone fulfilling a role in…

Korean Language Mission Introduction

I am learning Korean and I am going to bring you along for the ride. Right now I only know parts of the Korean alphabet (Hanguel) and a few phrases. I have been to Korea before and I have the support of several Korean friends. My approach to learning this language…

60. The Rewards of Looking Up

Keeping an organic garden, even a small one, takes a considerable amount of work. I consider it part of my…

79. Un peu de diversité sur Medium (A bit of diversity on Medium) 1'/?

My Calendar Is Complexity Embodied— #30

There is too much going on. I only have two calendars enabled. One for work, one for…

Necessary Hiding (#9)

Sometimes You Gotta Hide from the World to Set Things Right.

Non-communication

#9

She sat, wringing her hands, her over-long white hair snaking over her left shoulder, rather like the streak on a skunk, the dark sweater doing nothing for her save to emphasise the shadows under her eyes and the small, disapproving mouth. The stress was palpable. She…

No one’s fault.

He walks in knowing he has probably seconds to live. The ground is shaking.

Or rather the floor. He’s in a high rise in LA. Yes. This is the big one. He’s a geologist about to give a presentation on the new fault line.