One: The tide kisses my feet, withdrawing its tender tongue then returning to taste my toes again, pulling on my heels as it leaves, enticing me to walk further into the waves. The beach on the River Neva - hidden away behind the Peter and Paul Fortress - is a seducer, I’m certain.

One: The tide kisses my feet, withdrawing its tender tongue then returning to taste my toes again, pulling on my heels as it leaves, enticing me to walk further into the waves. The beach on the River Neva - hidden away behind the Peter and Paul Fortress - is a seducer, I’m certain.

London; Part III.

Jack’s birthday Moleskine Postal Notebook, front, back and assembled.

I just do art because I’m ugly and there’s nothing else for me to do.

Andy Warhol

Real

It is often said that you should endeavour to find someone who talks about you like you put the stars in the sky. Someone who is your world. Someone who makes you feel “complete”. He is none of those things. He is the stars in my sky: tiny pinpoints of brightness in an endlessly vast, dark and confusing eternity. The only thoughts I can connect. He’s not my world. A world is the space in which I can live, and I can move away from my world even in my mind. No, he is more like a universe. He envelops my existence and I cannot escape it, not even if I wanted to - I wouldn’t know how, because how does one even think about not existing? I don’t mean dying. I mean my matter being dispersed across all aspects of time and space that I have ever been in, converted into new, different energy. That is an impossible thought, because I feel so real. He doesn’t make me feel “complete”, he makes me feel real. I exist, in his universe that I am so enthralled in, and I have no intention of ever not being his reality.

"Letter From My Ex-Boyfriend"

I missLetting you kiss the spotI would gladly markBeing mine to kiss. Come home.I will drag you— You, weak loner, To me. Your face is my passion, justIt seems my loveHas gone: Nothing is you, You never smile. Naked, I fall in loveWith your memory.All I can touchIs longing. I longFor you

"Letter From My Ex-Boyfriend"

I miss
Letting you kiss the spot
I would gladly mark
Being mine to kiss. 
Come home.
I will drag you— 
You, weak loner, 
To me. 
Your face is my passion, just
It seems my love
Has gone: 
Nothing is you, 
You never smile. 
Naked, I fall in love
With your memory.
All I can touch
Is longing. 
I long
For you

This was fun. And there’s no feeling like having your name on the back of a t-shirt two years in a row. Taken by the lovely Kirsten, best friend and “proud mother" figure. 

This was fun. And there’s no feeling like having your name on the back of a t-shirt two years in a row. Taken by the lovely Kirsten, best friend and “proud mother" figure. 

Even the writing about writer's block is beautiful. Your words are precious and beautiful and you ARE significant. I'm not a star and I wish I was, and if I was I'd tell you just how important you are.

@Anonymous

Wow thank you, I really needed to hear that today (or any day, really). I think every creative person feels insecure and insignificant or like their work doesn’t have integrity or isn’t meaningful, but these messages make all the difference! Have a great day.

Writer’s Block

I’ve finally grasped at the clock hands; acquired hours upon hours of time; collected seconds of my own under the mattress. But instead of letting my creativity finally spill over, I feel useless. Everything I write might as well be written on the back of empty packets of coffee and other items in the pile of screwed up ideas I keep throwing out, traced in the dust of burnt out incense or emptied out down the drain. I can’t write, I can’t even speak. I peel my lips apart each morning to greet a cup of coffee and another day where pen doesn’t touch paper without being mingled with tears of frustration. I am just a writer in a sea of writers, drowning. The words are blunt and hard to wield, and I feel as a single droplet of water echoing against the walls of a cave, insignificant and fleeting in existence.  ”I am significant!” I shout through my window, demanding of the stars, but I know when they don’t answer me, that I’m not at all. 

I’m no longer afraid to be myself.

Far From Any Road | The Handsome Family (Cover / Mixed by Jack N.)

Remember True Detective? Remember how good that was?

"Columba" - a constellation located in the southern sky made up of stars in the Canis Major, meaning "the dove" in Latin. Presumably a biblical reference to Noah’s dove, who informed Noah that the Great Flood was finally receding. Belongs to the ‘Heavenly Waters’ group of constellations.

"Columba" - a constellation located in the southern sky made up of stars in the Canis Major, meaning "the dove" in Latin. Presumably a biblical reference to Noah’s dove, who informed Noah that the Great Flood was finally receding. Belongs to the ‘Heavenly Waters’ group of constellations.

I’ll Get The Next One

All change please! This train
Terminates here — attention:
Please ensure you have

Your baggage with you
(Step away from the platform)
At all times, listen

Do not lean on door
Do not step on to the tracks
Do not fall in love

The train will depart
From a platform you can’t reach
In half a minute

A birthday card for Andrew. No prizes for guessing what Andrew’s profession is.

A birthday card for Andrew. No prizes for guessing what Andrew’s profession is.

Seven long years - I’ll miss my college peers and teachers so much. My MS teachers thanked me for my card and told me that they think I’m more intelligent and talented than the two of them together. They are so wrong, and so kind. I really must try and hold on to beautiful moments like these. Hopefully this photograph can come with me to university, even if my friendships don’t make it.