It might be better for you all if you don’t understand me. My problem? I only ever wanted to be understood…
2008? The year I started university. The year my daughter was born. I went into labour noon 4th July (Australian Eastern Standard Time). She was born 5th July, at 3:53am.
She is wonderful. She is 10 years old, and my son is 7. But I have spend far too long with them that I have corrupted their souls with the damn shit of critical and creative thought… independent learning and thinking… self ideation and trust…
Words are poisonous. They don’t mean shit. They are shit. They don’t mean anything except what they mean to you.
There is nothing worth while in life except what you make of it.
Do deeds, say nothing of them. Don’t read, don’t speak, just do and be.
The only word of wisdom that should be preached.
10th January, 2019. 5:38pm. Over and out.
Originally published 10 January 2019 @ 5:37 pm, titled “My mind is a horror show, splish splash Pontypool of lava” // Recycled 11 April 2020 @ 8:32 pm.