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Here now

Unbounded bliss and beauty
In every place and time
Why worry want and don’t want; ought and oughtn’t?
When all is


I wouldn’t be here without my talent
I wouldn’t be here without my courage
I wouldn’t be here without my determination
I wouldn’t be here without my luck
I wouldn’t be here without my dishonesty
I wouldn’t be here without my conceit
I would be here regardless
I never left

on time

butterfly moments
unfolding eternities
lifted on heartbeats

So what’s news?

I’m probably prejudiced. There’s something about media stories sourced exclusively from unnamed intelligence officials that makes me reluctant to give them benefit of the doubt. Just because they’ve been on a long losing streak from Saddam’s WMD to Russiagate ‘collusion’ doesn’t mean they aren’t right this time.

They probably are right. A bit. I’m sure there’ve been Soviet/Russian assets, including intelligence and special forces, continuously up to nefarious things inside Afghanistan since at least the 19th century. I’m fairly confident there would have been occasions individual Russian liaison agents/officials offered local militiamen material incentives to target US forces there, either specifically or in general. I’m equally confident US ‘advisors/trainers/observers/whatever’ have made equivalent offers to their Afghan allies aimed at Russian, Chinese and Iranian personnel operating in Afghanistan. It’s how The Game is played.

But if you’re trying to suggest the Kremlin has put some kind of blanket bounty on the heads of US service personnel in Afghanistan and we’re only just hearing about it from anonymous spooks, and not a host of informants, defectors, captured prisoners, sympathetic civilians and virtually the entire Afghan exile population, then you’ll have to excuse me.

Yes, we know Trump is a sociopathic fool utterly unsuited to wield power in any form. But we don’t need to be constantly force fed obvious bullshit to remind us of that.

The auto-autistics

They say we lack a theory of mind.

That’s a bit rich coming from a panel of psychiatrists don’t you think?

Sitting in the garden

Breath in the nostrils flows inwards, towards contemplation and stillness.

Sun on the skin draws outwards, towards worship and awe.

Where does it lead?

All paths begin in the garden.


May contain traces of me.

In a moment

“Good morning. How are you?”

How am I? I am how I am when wondering how I am. How else can I answer the question?

“If now isn’t good I don’t know what is.”

I wonder if that’s OK and move on.

Reflections on cat magic


This morning Jigsaw and I cast a wee cantrip. I plucked gently at his shedding coat as he liquefied in my lap under winter sun. Wisps of near nothing spiralled upwards and out, sowing rainbows and diamonds across the gentle lucidity.

In time it became an oracle; a random field of possibility manifesting unspoken insight. A swirl of tea-leaves, a constellation of stars, a fall of yarrow stalks, the turn of a card …

Many things sound like echo. Abstractions, affirmations, aphorisms, art, … emotions, …

Do I only hear myself?


Authenticity recedes as I approach.

Like freedom, understanding, transcendence, truth …

Maybe there’s no destinations. Just journey.

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