Sometimes thoughts, sometimes words and quite often themes without connection. The best way to be a better writer is to practice and draft often. With that in mind, what’s my excuse?
Twenty-eight posts later…
2025: just a reflection
A bumper year of ups and downs. More downs than I can ever recall. A tough year. A painful one. Loss and confusion has reigned throughout. Yet as we approach the dawn of 2026, there is reason to be optimistic. Right?
The feeling.
Play on. Play strong. Play in Blue and White. But most of all, Boys In Blue Never give in: do it right.
Soul
For all I see, taste, and feel, and all I hear, touch, and smell, is hope and hope reached for in restore.
Simple complications.
cervical radiculopathy paresthesia spondylosis dermatome worsening neurological deficits occiput
pinched nerve pins and needles aging wear and tear the nerve path clumsy hands headaches
Pending under way.
Eight weeks, they said. That was months ago. How can a win feel like defeat? That jubilation has long passed. Instead an ache like no other has filled the void. I feel it in my chest, my collarbone, and as firing spasms of burning paresthesia. It hurts.
Ordinary? Decent? Criminal?
The exploration of freedom, power, and injustice is full of wit but is heavy in its themes.
Sensationalism
Phenomenally mad and angry, they got themselves into a balmy. The shouts and the screams, Drowned out the dead dreams, All because of another land’s army?
Strength
The Earth landscape of 2025 seems to be an era of A.S. (Actual Stupidity) battling Artificial Intelligence to see what physique can emerge from the ashes of stewed sinews stuffed in socks of soggy steel.
31st
Gentle steps struggle to find silence; leaves, twigs, and earth cast sounds; like drumming snaps to my ears; uncovering creeping creatures.
Notification.
When I was much younger I wore a purple shirt With a sky blue hat which didn’t go, and didn’t suit me at all.
Crumpsall.
I was born here. Today to help someone. Yet, I feel like a product recall. Seen some come and go. One day, we all know.
Intrusive Thoughts
Saturday was a tough day. Tough to get out of bed. Tough to put one leg in front of the other. Heading to the ground, I suddenly felt the need to cry, and slip away somewhere alone. I’ve always found it easy to step back and find solace or pull myself up. Today felt different.…
Hunt’s Pot (by Pen-y-Ghent)
Beneath the grasses: legs held dangling, Soft earthly ledges of rich limestone with pure airflow.
AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC - ACTON28.BLOG 