When I think to the surface of me: the edges of my early mornings, the fullness of and fighting for family, the ground I…
This was the banner headline the Boston Globe sent to my inbox this week. As a piece of clickbait, it…
So when we are asked what is the point of living,what is the point of life? What will we say?
Mornings are beautiful.
And I’ll never get over how the earth exhales after a storm.
I grow cynical by the day. The world’s life sentence is spiralling down a direction I wish I could add a fullstop to. Turning around time and going…
Life is tumultuous.Begin with that proposition.Wittgenstein would be proud.Within life’s chaos is contained…
Murmur of cherry blossoms…