Rear view mirror

Finding the kindest voice inside yourself to meter out compassion to yourself, in doses that heal every harsh word over time.

Its strange, somehow, that music, lyrics, songs and sometimes the cold of winter that has the ability to mess up the dopamine that’s keeping you together.

Don’t keep looking at the rear view mirror to places you won’t be returning to.


You’re late

The door creaked open. The 3 of them walked in. Two of them sat down, and the oracle said to her, ‘You’re late’

‘Im… I’m late?’ She stammers uncomprehendingly.
‘Yes’ says the oracle picking up a pile of books from the table. ‘These books are waiting for you for 3 months’


Run for your life

‘This isn’t a meeting. this isn’t even coffee’ – he said, taking a large sip of coffee from his mug.
‘This is just a drop off”

She collects the words blankly, as if in slow motion. They pierce the barrier of feeling remotely significant.
She contemplates the words that are economical with the truth, as he wears out his smug smile.
‘Maybe’ she thinks to herself. ‘Maybe its time to run for your life’


A bunch of keys sits on the coffee table, bound by a keyring and 2 remote controls.
One is bluish grey and the other bright green.
‘Don’t press the RED button’
She presses it, adamantly.
He smirks, ‘Youve just opened the Garage at home’ he says and points into the distance with a laugh.