They say you should never judge a book by its cover; but what about those particularly obscure macho sporting DVDs usually found in the ‘Specialist’ section of a DVD store right next to the awkward softcore pornography section (rather ingenius target demographic product placement if I do say so myself) or deep down within the ‘Under $10′ Bargain Bins beneath never-ending piles of Steven Seagal’s latest works and other miscellaneous rubbish? Surely these DVDs are, unlike books, with their terrible covers perfectly summing up their equally terrible content, just begging to be judged? Well the moment I got my hands on a copy of this beauty at a friend’s house over the weekend

It isn’t about the loot

Or the fear on people’s faces

It’s all about me returning

To my most natural and comfortable state

The rewards may be plenty

Allowing me to live that ‘normal’ life

And yet, on the contrary

The appeal is in the danger of losing it all

It’s the adrenalin that surges through me

Entirely organically and through mere circumstance

Not coaxed or tricked by a bungee jump or sky dive

Pumping through my veins as a simple matter of fact

My gun is pointed at no one

It is just an extension of me

For behind the balaclava you might see the eyes

Of somebody in bliss; alive at that moment

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A candle doesn’t need to be lit

In order to be a candle

A candle doesn’t need to be of its original appearance either

So long as it can still be lit

Melted down into trails of dripping wax

Solid now and preserving a state of what once was

Warm or cold and in any shape or form, I will light you if you allow me

For You, my dear, are my candle

 … Read More

Memories of me are escaping, shattered into shards of mirrored glass and exploding out in a red mist of reflections and sharp edges and pulpy matter.

I am helpless to catch them all as my eyes search in a flurried desperation to recall my key moments in existence before they are all gone for good.

The things I used to love and the essence of myself leak out through opened veins where once they circulated, travelling round through a roadmap of my thoughts and always accommodatingly available to be pulled up into consciousness at any time of my choosing, but now no longer.

They all leave me, the faces of my past, the earliest of which I have long since forgotten along with those most recent whose… Read More