Friday, 1 March 2013

It happens once and rarely twice

March is always a month that feels happily nostalgic in the scent of almost-summer.  This year is no different.
Except that it is, completely. 






Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Skin.

.

In this latest attempt of burning my shadow away, I thought I'd compound the occasion with some new body ink.  Without going into detail as to what this tattoo is marking for me at this time, I will say that I first read these words over a year ago but only yesterday did they merit the space on my skin.  In the days preceding yesterday I had no plan in mind for ink at all.

Here's to spontaneous actions that are meant to be. 

That's my fierce bastard face by the way.


..."Give me a man for every vow I've seen broken and the Wall will never lack for defenders."

"I've always known that Robb would be Lord of Winterfell."

Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. "A lord's one thing, a king's another." He offered the raven a handful of corn from his pocket. "They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You'll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they'll call Your Grace. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon... and I'll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it."
Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring. "And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?"
"What *will* you do?" Mormont asked. "Bastard as you are?"

"Be troubled," said Jon, "and keep my vows."


- George R. R. Martin, A Clash Of Kings



Purple pearl.

Hello!

While I've been doing fun things with the guys at DublinTown my last post at the all-to-often neglected TWG was January 1st.  If you read it you will have seen 'the great revelation' that was indeed great in theory and I won't tell you that it wasn't marvellous in practice for about three weeks, before my epic descent into total and utter failure.

One cannot dwell however; One can only try harder.  Life is all about fucking up, otherwise how would we enjoy eventually getting it right(or fucking it up in the first place).  It's never all bad.  Sometimes there's a pearl to be found among the broken shells.

A beautiful person who re-entered my life recently is leaving again, most likely for good.  I know they will carry on living and this is all that matters.  Still, the sudden realisation that I won't see this person any more and wont glow like a fucking star in their luminous calmness, makes me want to be a better person.

Whatever the cost or sacrifice, I need to shed this cocoon in order to become ~*the butterfly*~