Journal

The Hunger

Things happen so fast, you’re born, you fall in love, you’re old. And the greatest things get crammed into the tiniest bits of time. The briefest moments are the very ones you wish you could capture, dwell upon, live in … we want to but we can’t … good thing, that.

Journal

Samara

When does the path we walk on lock around our feet? When does the road become a river with only one destination? Death waits for us all in Samara. But can Samara be avoided?

Journal

All our yesterdays

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is…