Strangers passing in the sun, A hint of something that’s begun, But love never lasts that long, Maybe it’s time for another song.

Tonight, she’s on- my mind. Tonight, she’s on- my mind. To-night, To-night, To-night-

Played another winning hand, But this old game never goes as planned, She’s wearing my favourite dress, I can’t help but be impressed.

Tonight, she’s on- my mind. Tonight, she’s on- my mind. To-night, To-night, To-night-

And [...]]]> Strangers passing in the sun,
A hint of something that’s begun,
But love never lasts that long,
Maybe it’s time for another song.

Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
To-night,
To-night,
To-night-

Played another winning hand,
But this old game never goes as planned,
She’s wearing my favourite dress,
I can’t help but be impressed.

Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
To-night,
To-night,
To-night-

And what if we could dance so free,
Heart to heart, just you and me.
In my mind my thoughts are real,
But you may never know how I feel.

Tonight, you’re on- my mind.
Tonight, you’re on- my mind.
To-night,
To-night,
To-night-

(August 2008)

What really matters? Sitting here monotonously chewing gum, looking past an empty reflection of myself in the monitor. Is it the words that I write, or the smile that they bring? I turn on TV, and see images of horror paraded like a carnival for the waiting public, and it doesn’t matter how much they [...]]]> What really matters? Sitting here monotonously chewing gum, looking past an empty reflection of myself in the monitor. Is it the words that I write, or the smile that they bring? I turn on TV, and see images of horror paraded like a carnival for the waiting public, and it doesn’t matter how much they denounce it, it doesn’t matter how many times they tell me it’s a terrible thing- the expressions are permanently etched in my mind. I need a space to think, away from the microscopic analysis of docu-drama news, away from my own thoughts, and away from this world of self alienating destruction. [stop] and then I heard a voice. Low and distant at first, but the exquisite notes reached me somehow, somewhere, and I knew there and then that I was not alone.

(April 2004)

This is not an end, despite the exhalation of air, I had not done living. temporary asphyxiation on thoughts about thoughts, an indefinite looping refined with each year that passed like a runaway train desperately clinging to a rusted track. I once swore allegiance to a compartmental life, boxed activities and cardboard cut-out friends, an [...]]]> This is not an end, despite the exhalation of air, I had not done living. temporary asphyxiation on thoughts about thoughts, an indefinite looping refined with each year that passed like a runaway train desperately clinging to a rusted track. I once swore allegiance to a compartmental life, boxed activities and cardboard cut-out friends, an absence of mind and declaration of fate, positively pointless and purposefully destroyed with every step, this time i’m not coming down. It seemed like days, but the seconds remained decidedly suspended and elegantly disused. Sand draining through hour-glasses creating patterns in my mind, a spectral illumination, saturated in colour, contrasted with pale hues. I once stopped to think about the words that I wrote, a disintegration of letters and paragraphs revoked. This is not an end, this is a perfect beginning.

(February 2005)