That mid-autumn date we made,

You promised,

But you did not keep.

I would bring you lanterns,

Fill your room with light.

I would sing you songs,

Little childish ditties.

Wait for me, I said,

And you nodded.

When I returned,

You were gone


I’ve missed you ever since.




The dark despair of failure. Those depths of acrid, rancid, dissonant putridity. Purple – thick, viscid, slimy, clammy, choking and Stygian – swirling manic whirlpool inside corporeal core.

That feeling that one has failed a precious Parallel Embodied child. Closest companion. Most faithful entity who walks alongside without questioning.

Each and every decision affects this beautiful being – such cogent reverberations – in ways no human mind will ever fully grasp. Yet, just sensing the very peripheral waves, catching those soft crying top notes or unheard vibrating bass notes, is enough to thrust the human soul into the vortex of forlorn, hapless gloom. That is, if the human possesses just a sliver of empathic resonance for Other, and a tiny beam of light shining onto Self. Many, sadly, do not. Yet… Some humans really do. Some humans truly try.

What would one give to understand in full the abundance that thrives within the Canine Angel’s inner world?

What may this human proffer in exchange for this harmonic-rhythmic enlightenment  beneath the mantle of verisimilitude?

Would the knowledge and the weight of its pulchritude and agony annihilate the tenuous human fragility?

No words. No answers. The silence deafens, as the senses listen intently, skimming the surface of myriad textures, smells, tastes, vibrations, images, sounds… Ebbing, flowing, undulating…

no goodbyes


Lucy & Janette @ Sonata in Z 10 Nov 2015- the very last time I saw my friend.

Throughout the tumult of the last four months – betrayal of trust, instability and almost not completing the PhD as a result – I had been thinking of her. My friend Janette. A beautiful soul, so gentle, intense, refined and deeply kind. Our last communication was a hastily written email about my traumatic hurried return to homeland to write up my thesis. She wished me good luck, and we planned to catch up after my submission. Janette died a few days afterwards. Caught in the flurry of fear, anxiety and desperation of PhD dissertation writing, I did not email Janette, until early this morning. I had been thinking of her throughout, but that email never was sent, just like the other important email to the university library (see below) – everything got swallowed up and lost inside the terrifying whorl of survival… and now, I shall never see her again. Continue reading



shell of eternal grief

It isn’t about “forgiveness” – a dimension too much talked about yet too little understood by all. This is about the severance of an element, after an irreversible interruption. Sometimes, what is broken may be put back together again and in doing so, a new creation is formed (because the break can never be mended as if there never was). Other times, gold can be poured to symbolically fuse the fragments together as a work of artistry and beauty. However, in some situations, when the fragmented part completely vanishes into the wasteland of cosmic nothingness, there can be no rectification, renovation, restoration or even remolding. It is gone. Forever.

Add to that howling eternal void, and the inconsolable grief that shall remain with me and the one you harmed for the rest of our lives, there is that the simple fact that no valuable gesture of repentance has been offered. The popular and commonly misread word, “forgiveness,” is inappropriate to insert into this anti-space. So, stop bleating and whining about your distress, pathetic vapid expressions so contemptible in its essence. Even if it may move the social gathering around the camp fires of superficiality, it will not move me. I do not care for general social consensus, nor am I afraid of censure from those who have no knowledge of what I speak.

Simply put. I shall never acknowledge your existence in my physical domain again. Your embodiment, all it represents, no doubt remains in the entrails of my bereavement, but all outward corroboration – gestural, verbal or social – that I may have had to muster for you out of sheer tolerance before, has now traveled the way of the precious entity that you have destroyed. I did not even get to bid it goodbye. I was not allowed to speak, see, smell, touch or signalise its passing. And so you shall go that way too. Because it has to be. Nothing more, nothing less.


Lucy lost one third of her beautiful long tail. My heart broke. No, my heart did not smash into smithereens, and no, it did not lie bleeding on the ground. Nothing so dramatic at all. Just the very soft, almost inaudible cry, of brokenness. A needless careless act. It was by someone I knew was not to be trusted, someone I disliked intensely, yet I took that risk and left my vulnerable, trusting precious child in his hands. Continue reading


Everywhere I turn, humanity creeps up on me, sprinkling colourful fragments of devastation.

The shrapnel embed themselves inside my brain, littering my mindscape with stabs of pain.

Too many pretty words. Empty promises. Spurious platitudes.

Smiling selfies belying hollow echoes of fluctuating loyalty.

Prejudice railing against prejudice, stirring the cauldron of ignorance, bigotry and strife, spiked with toxic self-righteousness.

Twisted minds, tortured souls, chasing shadows, painting purgatory.

Run, run, run! But these humans they pursue me, running with nowhere to hide from artful homiletics condemning my peaceful inhumanity. Continue reading

witch’s brew


Today, I received a sad communication from someone who has been abused by people near and dear to her. My own world crumbled within me, because I felt her pain, yet I am incapable of resolving it for her. I felt guilty, in a way, that I escaped the terrors that she had to endure, and I have wonderful friends who stand by me firmly on my side through this bumpy ride, while she has nobody but me to confide in. I am overwhelmed by empathic grief. As cosmic coincidence would have it, I turned on the telly, and was met with a report on yet another form of abuse. My heart weeps inside a very dark space today… and I am all the more grateful for the comfort that my beautiful Angel offers me inside her innocence.

Not all witches ride broomsticks wearing pointy hats. In fact, that is a laughable myth. The truth is, the most cogent evil is very often swathed in silken bundles of precious piety and steeped in a rich brew of religiosity and/ or moralistic postulation. Continue reading





Religion can be a powerful hiding place for terrible atrocities. I watched a short clip of this interview in the morning on telly, and I became overwhelmed with sorrow and anger. I cannot begin to imagine the excruciating torture these individuals have been through, my own experiences pale in comparison, and even then, I felt as if I was being systematically torn into smaller and smaller insignificant shreds. Voiceless, with no hope for being heard. I don’t ask for redress, there can be none that will erase the nightmares, but just a space where the abused can find a voice and be heard – not as a rabid angry ranter out for revenge, not as a deviant lunatic raving at imaginary shadows, but as a valid human being whose story is a true one. Continue reading