Category Archives: writing

Inktober – day 19 – cloud

Inktober – day 18 – filthy

American psycho.
Notice that both the garbage bags and his face have the same sheen – squeaky clean and shining on the outside, and completely filthy within.
So, that which glitters might just be garbage.

I used to think that American psycho was a bullshit absurd movie, but man has it grown on me. I don’t think there has been a more nihilistic character on screen. Taxi Driver comes close, but misses Patrick Bateman by miles. I don’t know if anyone else has depicted a better destruction of a person’s belief system and their descent into meaningless nihilism and darkness as was done in this movie.

No automatic alt text available.

Inktober – day 7 – shy

Wondering why the boy is naked? Keep reading.

The sunflowers turned away from the sun to look at him. He felt their gaze on him from the side of his eyes.
This must be the most interesting thing that has happened on this farm, one sunflower quipped in his plant language.



He felt like a display piece, and might as well have been naked, for he certainly felt so.

She was smiling at him.

God she’s enjoying this.


She was the same and yet she was different. With the power she held over him right now she was to him a terrifying beast hiding in that petite little body.
For she could destroy him with a simple NO!

And yet he realized almost on a conscious level, that one had to go on even if the risk was being destroyed, be willing to get burned , and to hand this beast that held his fate, a flower, even if she destroyed him.



He exhaled deeply under the gaze of the sun, the earth, the sunflowers and the terrible-beautiful beast standing in front of him, and slowly began.. faltering at first, then finding his ground.




The beast paused, even though she hadn’t been saying anything, then exhaled herself and began…

So you have feelings, big whoop

Empathy and compassion are such overplayed cards, especially in politics; played by people who take them to be all that is needed to help. But they forget that, perhaps purposefully or perhaps they never understood it in the first place, that If you don’t know how to help, you hurt or are likely to hurt those whom you want to help.

A sharp thing in the hands of a thug can wound, in the hands of a doctor can save. It is paramount to learn the difference; reality won’t bend to your feelings.