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A dying voice within me, is reaching out for something, I can hold onto, in the white capped illusion of this sea of infinity, we all float.
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Musings of a life.
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Memories of a life
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Effluvia of the Heart
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Ode to Gertrude
At times in my life when I lived alone I would work the holidays. Little engagement with the cheer. Visited Hamlet for my gifts. I..
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I use to love numbers. It was a life time ago. It was only the first six. Seven stopped me by its prime oddness. I never counted zero, it felt too dar..
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Hamlet said: “Oh god, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space�"were it not that I have bad dream..
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My memories have scattering incidences, emotional intensities, breath snatching trauma wrapped with pain. There are singularities scattered over my m..
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What is memory?
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There was a book back in the day, “The Feminine Mystique.” I didn’t read it but I see the Feminine Mystique in Shakespeare’s P..
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