[{"content":" ","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/","section":"","summary":"","title":"","type":"page"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"Categories","type":"categories"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/fiction/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Fiction","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Posts","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/resonance/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"Resonance","type":"categories"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/series/resonance/","section":"Series","summary":"","title":"Resonance","type":"series"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/resonance/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Resonance","type":"tags"},{"content":" Episode 6: Rebellion in the Shadows # “They’ve wiped it. Everything. The whole region. It’s gone.”\nThe sound of the tablet clunking onto the table echoed through the cloud of disbelief and tension in the interrogation room. Joji saw on the screen the remnants of Sector 670; rather than seeing an apocalyptic hellscape of destruction and death, destroyed buildings and ravaged homes - he instead saw clinical eradication. It was clean and surgical, as though a god had clicked its fingers and banished it to nothingness.\nThe earth was scorched and all evidence of habitation had been wiped.\nAll of the air in Joji’s body left him and he slunk deeper into his chair. The door was now open and more people were coming in and out of the room, but Joji sat in silence amidst the backdrop of panic. The clamouring and running around merged into the background static and the ringing of his mind overwhelmed his senses.\nHe tried to feel; he tried to cling onto even the feeling of sadness or grief, but the cold and numbness had taken over and commanded the system. Flickers of memories came to the forefront of Joji’s consciousness; the wide and warm sunset over the wide skies, the winding rivers, the walks that lasted forever with nothing in sight for hours, the warm home cooked meals, the faces of-\nThe static fought back and glitched his attention to the present.\nPixelated faces and hazy images of ghosts fought their way to his mind, but were torn apart by the white noise screaming in his ears. He didn’t move when they lifted him out of the chair and moved him out of the small room.\nThe dark corridors blurred into an endless and indistinguishable maze; tired and wary faces passed him by and yet the journey from the interrogation room to living quarters felt like stepping through a dream. Perhaps he could wake up, or perhaps he could go back to sleep; he was lost in a state of disarray like the disorientation of finding himself waking over and over again to fall into darker and darker dreams.\nThe darkness and emotion had disoriented Joji enough, but he had picked up clues and hints from his surroundings to realise that the base was underground; and the dim concrete walls of his living quarters only validated the hypothesis - the weight of the world above him was now crashing down on his senses, and as he lay on the bed he felt the increasing pressure in his chest.\n✧ The hours merged together and Joji lost all sense of time. His mind could not comprehend rational lines of processing; his ever present inner dialogue was silent.\nHe felt cold detachment creeping in; as though he was trying to split from himself. The fire within had turned blue, and he felt it withdrawing - he wanted desperately to fade into the background, to become a physical manifestation of the numbness. His soul still felt present, but it felt tired; it ached. He had felt the deep burden and crushing ache before, it was the silent crushing of society. It had often been accompanied with deep resentment and loathing of those who were ignorant to it - the everyday people in the UGA metropolis, bound and chained to the systems that controlled their every waking hour and actively sought to extinguish any flame of life and passion.\nJoji’s mind turned once more to the contrast of freedom, and the extreme thrill of grabbing hold of those threads of life. He saw flashes in his mind of the glowing purple eyes, present and glaring, judging heavily and staring deep into him.\nIn his waking life he only saw glimpses and flashes of threads, piercing through the rotting fabric of society - and now he was missing the glow and life of the mech.\nJoji shivered and the hairs on his arms stood to attention - and suddenly he felt the walls closing in around him. He felt the sudden desire to feel. The concrete walls around him needed breaking; the numbness needed obliterating - as his thoughts swelled, so did his emotions, and the flickering embers in his heart stirred and bled deeper in colour and burned with more vigour. He thought of the images of his childhood home and memories being eradicated, and he thought of the orbital station and the devastation at the hands of the mech; and he felt the invisible pull of desire.\n“Sekko”, said a deep voice at the door, “come with me.”\nThe man’s voice shot through Joji’s spiralling. He looked up at the old man standing at the door; noting to himself just how unaware he was of it being opened.\n“Well, come on man.” said the man at the door.\nJoji’s disdain of being told what to do was countered by the strange warmth and familiarity of the old man. His face was weathered with a scruffy, yet shaped, grey moustache.\nReluctantly, Joji got to his feet. As he got closer to the old man, the old man grimaced.\n“Have you not washed in the two days you’ve been here?” he asked.\n“What?” replied Joji bluntly.\nThe man rolled his eyes.\n“Oh whatever, just follow me.”\n✧ Joji followed the man through the dark winding corridors of the base and was led into a busy command room. There was a flurry of activity, with men and women shuffling through tight spaces between desks and large semi transparent screens and holograms. The room was dark and cramped but overly lit by the buzzing and whirring of large offensive projector lights. The soft glow of the semi transparent floating screens and holograms added flickers of colour; making the array of desks and the mish mash of old technology and people look akin to the vast UGA cities at night - being assaulted by the neon flicker of advertising holograms and security spotlights.\nJoji was led to a centre console, a command table, being watched over by Rin and the man from the interrogation room, together with three other gentlemen. The three unknown men stood with an evident authority, and were flanked on either side by Rin and the aggressive man.\n“Sir,” said the moustached elderly man who had led Joji, “he’s here.”\nThe five people huddled looking at the command table stopped their conversation and looked up, focusing on Joji.\nThe man in the middle, a middle aged man with glasses and greying hair, was the first to speak.\n“Ah yes, thank you Mikkel.”\nHe looked into Joji’s eyes, and spoke once more.\n“Joji Sekko, I’ve heard a lot about you. Come.” The man gestured for Joji to come closer.\n“Now,” he started once more, “I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions. I’d have preferred to have given you more than a couple days before laying this all on you, but time is really not our ally.”\n“I want to be fully transparent with you, so-” he stopped mid sentence, noticing Joji’s fleeting glances to Rin - “oh of course, my apologies. You have met Rin Kuroda and Aris Thorne here.” gesturing to both Rin and the man from the interrogation room.\n“This,” gesturing to the large, muscular man to his right, “is Darius Krell. And this gentleman here is Kaelen Vane. And of course I am Ryu Imai.”\nJoji merely nodded. This Ryu Imai seemed friendly and authoritative, but Joji still felt on edge. The conversation had just started, and yet he was already feeling impatient. He was aware of the looks from the people in the background; the silent glances and soft murmurs.\n“Now, as I was saying, I want to be fully open and honest with you. There’s a lot you don’t know; through no fault of your own of course, but no doubt this is very overwhelming, and so\u0026hellip; Oh yes, please, take a seat.” Ryu Imai gestured at the chair on one side of the command table - a large table with 3D holograms of what looked like locations and buildings.\nJoji took a seat, and he felt as though he was sitting before a committee.\n“I’ve seen the data from the Seraph 1,”\nJoji shot a curious glance to Rin as Ryu spoke.\n“Seraph 1 being the white mech you piloted to destroy a UGA class 2 orbital station… and I think we owe you an explanation.”\n“We- you- us, here on Earth, we live in a bubble. The United Global Accord has control of the planet, they run our cities, our security, our lives - you know this, of course, you’re seemingly an intelligent man.”\nRyu’s soft features hardened and the glasses sat lower on the bridge of his nose.\n“They also have complete control of information. There is a war in the colonies. All across the solar system, the United Global Accord is violently repressing all thought, expression, and any opposition to their totalitarian ruling. They don’t tell us of course - the Earth is locked down.”\n“The Seraph 1, it was made-”\nThe smaller man to the left of Ryu cut across him. He was smaller in stature, his face was thin and his eyes deep in his head.\n“Apologies, Director, but if I may?”\n“Yes, yes, right, of course Dr Vane please, continue.” said Director Ryu.\n“When the modern day mechs were first being developed, the first rumblings of discontent across the colonies was already well under way, albeit in secret. It was harder for the UGA to hide their crimes; their silencing of critics, their murder of entire communities who dared to speak up. The flourishing colonies you hear of are more akin to space slums. Labour camps and floating prisons. A group started to develop a new technology, a mech that could compete with the latest UGA combat suits… something that could stand up to the oppression. Project Seraph. Five mechs were created, and the analytics were… scary. They were superior in every way to the new UGA mechs and the technology that came with them, but… no one could sync with them to pilot them anywhere near their capabilities.”\n“The experiments were… troublesome… and unfortunately futile. But the data was real, they were a glimmer of hope to an otherwise doomed existence to the UGA expansion. But the UGA caught wind of the whispers in the shadows and they were sought out and attacked; the Seraph mechs were hidden or destroyed. The truth is, we don’t know what happened to them. It was imperative that they were never found by the UGA - if they could get them to work they would be used as machines of total war; they would be as though God had been trapped in machine form. We would be doomed.”\nJoji sat and a layer of silence filled the room. At this point the murmurs in the background had stopped and people had stood still to witness the conversation. There was palpable tension.\nJoji could see the piercing purple eyes burning into his mind - he also felt the gravity of the mech. The words from Ryu and Kaeleen Vane filtered through his brain like data points adding to his already existing disdain of the United Global Accord. He had forever felt the heavy, soul destroying grips of the UGA on his life and the world. He had grown accustomed, and that made him feel sick.\nHe had heard whispers of trouble in the colonies. People had been removed from positions and relocated to jobs on a random moon or some colony ship; it was framed as a promotion, an experience - but the soft itch of scepticism was ever present. There were too many coincidences, too many inconsistencies; but it was never worth discussing, no one would openly question the reality of what was being reported.\nThe silence of inequality and oppression was deafening. He had seen the slums in the metropolis; he had seen the experiences and treatment of those deemed lower than the AI workforce.\nWhat Ryu and Kaeleen had spoken of sounded plausible, but that didn’t mean it was real.\n“What are you trying to say?” asked Joji. “That there is a secret rebellion in the colonies that the United Global Accord is keeping hidden? That seems a bit… convenient?”\n“Convenient?!” spat Aris Thorne, “what part of this is convenient you little shit!” he slammed his fist on the table.\n“I’m no fan of the UGA, but you guys shot me and are now telling me that the people running the entire solar system are evil? No shit they’re evil, I’ve lived this; I’m not blind or stupid. But, what about you? Why should I trust anything you’re saying?”\nAris jumped forward but Ryu put out his arm as a barrier, halting his momentum and diffusing an otherwise aggressive Aris.\n“Let’s… be calm.” Ryu said softly. “Joji, I told you I would be open and honest, and I appreciate that despite that, this requires a large amount of trust from your side.”\n“Can I show you something?”\nJoji frowned, but nodded cautiously.\nRyu tapped away at the command desk and before them popped up a news broadcast. It was on the UGA’s global news channel.\nIt showed the aftermath of the destruction of sector 670. It was a drone shot, and yet rather being the clean cut empty mark on the landscape that Joji had seen previously, huge industrial scale excavator vehicles and construction mechs were patrolling and floating over the area.\nOn one side of the broadcast a man’s face was speaking. A UGA spokesperson.\n“Numerous accounts of suspicious activity were identified and reported, and following a large-scale and comprehensive surveillance mission using our state of the art orbital satellites, we identified various weapons hubs and insurgency build up in the area. These terrorists had, callously and without remorse, used this community as a camouflage to their evil and dangerous intent. Our new orbital stations used low orbit weapons to destroy the terrorist base and build up of weapons. Fortunately, no UGA servicemen were injured, and the low orbit stations continue to ensure the safety of our society.”\nThe broadcast cut to a large towering building. “That was official UGA spokesperson Mr Wirtz. We are forever grateful for the decisive action of our military. As we can see from the drone shots, Viktori Industry are already on site and we’re told that they will quickly be redeveloping the area for a new and improved extension to Metropolis 3-\nRyu clicked a button on the console and the hologram faded to nothingness.\n“Joji, I’m told you are from the area. Can you tell me what you think of the reports that an insurgency was building up?”\nEpisode 5 - Project Seraph\nEpisode 7 - Coming Soon\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this story, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Updates direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe ","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/resonance-rebellion-in-the-darkness/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Resonance - Episode 6: Rebellion in the Shadows","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/sci-fi/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Sci-Fi","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/series/","section":"Series","summary":"","title":"Series","type":"series"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/story/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Story","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Tags","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 April 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/tales/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"Tales","type":"categories"},{"content":" Episode 5: Project Seraph # A silent calm swallowed the forest. The soft hums and flickering of life disappeared, and clarity descended upon Joji. The rifles pointing to him slowly stepped forward, closing off the space between them and Joji.\nHe glanced up to the white mech towering about them, and felt the invisible but urgent pull towards it; it was calling to him.\nJoji lifted his hand, and before he could do anything screams shot at him from the undergrowth.\n“You’re surrounded!” came the shout. “These men are ordered to shoot to kill if met with resistance!!”\nJoji froze and scanned the area. The figures emerging from the darkness of the forest were uniformed silhouettes with deadly intent; their faces were featureless, as though they were creatures of shadow summoned from the depths of the earth.\nThe giant foot of the mech, once a pillar of support in the night, now stood as a cliff of no escape.\nJoji noticed the slow, deliberate movements from behind him.\nHe was definitely surrounded.\n“Surrender now! You’ve got nowhere to go!” came a further shout from the shadows.\nJoji’s hand reached backwards slowly, and he made contact with the mech; a comforting touch of support. His finger tips touched the cold metal and for an instance his hand rested with ease against his pillar of freedom.\nHis mind raced and pursued a solution. It fired with urgency and vigour, and his consciousness darted around the maze of problems before him, looking for a way out; looking for an answer to the question before him - how to escape.\nThe search turned sharp corners and reached dark recesses in his thoughts, but it only reached impassable cul-de-sacs, or worse, uncovered unanswered questions. Were these UGA soldiers? Were they here because of the orbital station? Would they believe him if he said he couldn’t remember? What if they asked him about the mech? Would they kill him? Soon the maze in his head had become a 3D labyrinth of mystery and doubt. The answers remained lost to Joji.\nHe glanced upwards at the looming shadow of the mech. Perhaps a small part of his heart had hoped for some shimmer of light from its eyes; but reality was stronger than hope.\nJoji slowly raised his hands.\nWith that, the tension in the air sank and dispersed like a sinking cloud. The shadows from the forest stepped forward cautiously, and human features and details came into existence, turning the silhouettes into people.\nJoji noticed the distinct lack of UGA symbols on the uniform, and was caught off guard by the somewhat scruffy nature of his adversaries.\nIf these aren’t from UGA, who are they?\nJoji’s heart skipped a beat, but before it could race ahead, a single shot fired from the grey and hit him. He felt his body give up, and he fell to the floor. Darkness took him.\n✧ An offensively bright, white light welcomed Joji back into the conscious world. He squeezed his eyes tightly to combat the sheer assault on his senses. He tried to lift his arm to cover his eyes with his hand, but quickly found the sharp edges of cuffs around his wrists restraining him.\nThe room was empty but for Joji, cuffed to a chair, sitting at a table. The faint hum of static reverberated through the air, only interrupted by the faintest crackle from the abundance of fluorescent lights littering the already white room.\nJoji stretched his neck and tried to roll his shoulders to gain a momentary relief from the ache in his back. He didn’t know how long he’d be out.\nA voice filled the room, “Joji Sekko”.\nIt was robotic and monotone.\n“Joji Sekko, born 30 April 2093 in sector 673” it spoke again, “one of the last habitable regions to cede to the United Global Accord after prolonged unrest and the death of the former government.”\n“Who are you?” asked Joji.\nThe static and hum sat in the air, but no reply came.\nFlashes filled Joji’s mind. Glitches. Lacerations and interpolations of images, memories, or something else. Static cut across his vision, the touch of her hand, an atom in the darkness, the flicker and crash of sparks, bright light.\n“Joji Sekko, an average student with good final results. A stellar legal career, no criminal record, a real stickler for the rules. A nice apartment in Zone C, a civilian accordance rating of 885 - a real model member of society.”\nJoji rolled his eyes.\n“I get it, you know who I am.” he retorted. “You’ll have to do better than that to scare me, all easily obtain-”\n“Joji Sekko,” came the robotic voice again, “a man who tries to hide who he is, a man who doesn’t know that they already know you aren’t quite as stable as you want everyone to know, a man who apparently has secret military grade mechanised armoured suit that carries no identifying information or AI Nav System; Joji Sekko, the spy? Or Joji Sekko the terrorist?”\nThe digital voice cut through Joji’s consciousness; he wasn’t prepared for such a cutting question. He looked to his mind, but his thoughts had been stung and constrained by the overwhelm; nothing would fire and the logic was stuck in place.\nHis flashes of memory of the orbital station flickered through his vision, followed by the deep disconnect and ontological loneliness that was ever present in his life within the metropolis. The longing and desire for resonance, and the painful and heavy burden that came with existing within the UGA filled his body. The accusation cut through Joji, and for the first time in a long time, he felt seen - but rather than a blissful joyous feeling of comradery and shared experience, he felt trapped. He was annoyed at his overreaction; he knew how the asphyxiation of society had him gasping for air trying to live his life in a way that was expected, but why now did it make him feel so small to be seen?\nBefore Joji could collect himself, there was a deep mechanical whirring from the door, followed by the sound of releasing pressure as the lock de-initiated. Slowly the white door hinged open, exposing the deceptively thick walls; the speed at which the door creaked open suggested that it was not only thick, but incredibly heavy.\nA man in tattered military gear walked through the door. He walked with a confidence verging on arrogance; his jacket was certainly non-military, it was dark blue with yellow hems and an old fashioned emblem crest on the front pocket. His stubble was too unkept to be purposeful.\nHe strode in, his muddy boots leaving flakes of dirt and grass on the otherwise grey floor.\nAnd behind him a woman flowed through the door, and as she did the door began to creak shut.\nThe woman-\nJoji knew as soon as he caught a glimpse of her face - no, he knew as soon as the door opened.\nIt was her.\nThe man dragged one of the empty chairs and collapsed into it. As she sat down, Joji dared not meet her eyes. He had felt her presence more times than he could remember; and even with his hands cuffs he felt her pulling him in. A strand of dark hair sat delicately over her face, and she swept it to one side with an otherworldly grace. Joji couldn’t help but look into her green eyes; and as he did he met his gaze, and felt the pure surrender of opening up his soul. In that moment he felt that life itself had pierced him and anchored him to her - and at that point total collision was inevitable.\n“Joji Sekko,” said the man with a rough and deep voice.\nJoji snapped out of his connection - and looked away.\n“Imagine my surprise to find a sniffling boring civvy with a CAR of 885 with a giant fucking mech with no ID, no Nav, fitted with enough fire power to start a god damn war, and if that wasn’t enough, a civil disobedience level that would normally land someone in a labour camp or shipped off to the colonies.”\n“Now, a clever guy like you, fancy job, I’m sure you’re thinking of some clever response, but let’s cut the bullshit.” The man raised his feet and slammed them on the desk; he slumped back even further into his chair.\n“So Joji Sekko, tell me about the mech.”\nJoji looked at the soles of the man’s boots, and quickly glanced at the woman.\n“I found it.” said Joji nonchalantly.\nThe man burst into laughter, and kicked his feet down on the table.\n“HA! I like that one kid. I have to admit, I was expecting something clever, but that caught me off guard!”\n“Look,” he continued, finally taking his feet off the table and sitting up. “Do you have any idea who the fuck we are?”\nThe shift in the tension in the room caught Joji off guard, and there was a palpable and real intention behind the man’s words. The truth is, Joji had no idea at all.\nThe woman looked at the man and then at Joji.\n“Joji,” her words felt like home. “I’m going to lay out your options for you. You have no idea who we are.”\nJoji flinched.\n“Are we part of the United Global Accord? Are we an underground terrorist organisation? It really makes no difference at all. We have everything about you. UGA has every single detail about your life, all the information I’m sure you know they have, all the information you don’t know they have, and judging from your reaction so far, all the information you don’t even know existed.”\nJoji felt backed against a wall, and yet he was longing for every word that she said.\n“Joji, if you’re with UGA and have some secret Mech, how do you think this will go? If you’re some secret rebel, what do you think the UGA will do to you? Your fate is directly tied to how compliant we think you’re being.”\nThe man slammed a pistol onto the table, and the crash split through Joji.\n“And I don’t think you’re being very compliant.” said the man, now smirking.\nJoji looked into the man’s eyes. The woman was right. He had no idea what was going on.\nHis mind, in the background, was still processing what they had said about his civil accordance level being 885. He knew it would be high, but he felt ashamed at just how high it was. He felt no better than the loathsome ghosts he saw every day, the same people who were willfully ignorant of the vice like grip that society had had on them. He was just like them. And what did he mean by a civil disobedience level? That’s not a metric Joji had ever heard of.\nJoji felt the wall against his back, but despite it all, the man’s aggression simply touched a part of Joji that riled him up. The man had sprayed gas on the small spark crying out for oxygen.\n“Whoever you are, I’m not sure you hear too good. I told you, I found the mech.”\nThe man reached for the pistol on the table-\nSuddenly, the large heavy door hissed, and slowly swung open, and both the man and woman turned round quickly. Another man, holding a thin glass tablet, walked in and whispered to his colleagues. Their eyes lit up, and the whispering seemed more urgent and frantic. He showed them something on the tablet, and they looked at each other in shock.\nJoji could sense the energy in the room change. The man, as aggressive as he was, was not hiding anything. Joji felt sure that he really would shoot him; his threats and his body language suggested he wasn’t trying to deceive or play games, he really just didn’t care one ounce about Joji. But now, the man felt smaller.\nThe pair of them turned to Joji. The woman placed the glass tablet on the table.\n“Did you do this?” she asked simply and quietly.\nOn the tablet, Joji saw the orbital station. It was a video, seemingly taken from the mech itself. There were numbers and values and codes around the screen that meant nothing to Joji. He felt lost in what he was seeing. The flashes of memories had felt like a dream, but this was bringing his actions into existence. The scene played on and the camera switched, and he could see himself - strapped into the mech piloting it.\nThe woman pulled it away.\nThe room fell heavy with silence. Joji felt like he was redlining. His entire consciousness had checked out, unable to process what was going on.\nThe silence continued.\n“How did you do it?”\nThe man’s question cut through the silence like an unexpected blade in the night.\n“How did you pilot the mech?”\nThe woman looked from the man to Joji. She too felt smaller now, and despite feeling like home, the dynamic had changed. She was now longing for Joji to speak, to hear his voice, to listen to his words.\n“What- what do you mean?” Joji said.\nThe woman looked slowly to the man. His mouth was slightly open, but there was no danger of any words forming. His eyes had widened, as though he was sitting opposite a ghost.\nShe started to talk, but stumbled over the first few syllables.\nShe paused and took a deep breath.\n“This mech, the white mech, we- we pulled the data log. We had no idea about the station, but -”\nShe blinked and swallowed.\n“But the mech - that mech, that mech isn’t meant to be here- that mech is impossible to- this has never-”\nJoji felt lost in a sky full of stars. He was in the abyss without a single flicker of hope in any direction. The cold darkness of space was his jail - no matter the direction he travelled, he was there alone with no warmth, answer, or comfort in sight. He couldn’t make sense of the conversation, but yet, he felt he was travelling faster.\nHe felt the pull of an answer, of a connection.\n“This mech,” she continued, “was one of the five experimental mechs developed in secret in the colonies to counter UGA’s creation of its armoured mechs. Project Seraph. But, they didn’t work. The pilots, everyone; well, no one could pilot them, not- not like this.”\n“They’re different to the UGA mechs, they’re… demonic, possessed, they destroyed the pilots, anything close to 30% neural-sync and- well- no one got close without losing their mind. Or worse.”\nThe man beside her visibly stiffened. His aggressive demeanour had evaporated completely.\nHer emerald eyes locked with his.\n“Joji, your neural-sync was 98%. I need- we need you to-”\nHer soft voice was cut off by the spine-spitting sound of an alarm screaming into the room. It felt as though Joji had been slammed head first through a window, and there was no remorse, the alarm continued with callous venom.\nThe man and woman seemingly regained their composure, and they scrambled to the glass tablet. The woman got to it first and frantically swiped and clicked at the screen.\nAll colour from her face had disappeared.\n“What is it?!” shouted the man, competing with the alarm.\n“Rin!” he screamed once more, “what the fuck is going on?”\n“Sector 670.” she replied.\nJoji’s blood ran cold. His home - his childhood home, sat directly in the centre of the 670 grid.\n“Sector 670, what - Sector 670, Sector 670… Sector 670 that’s a slum out east, what about Sector 670?”\n“It’s gone.”\n“What? What do you mean it’s gone it-”\n“They’ve wiped it. Everything. The whole region. It’s gone.”\n**End of Act 1** Episode 4 - Inconsequential Morality\nEpisode 6 - Rebellion in the Shadows\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this story, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Updates direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe ","date":"21 March 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/resonance-project-seraph/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Resonance - Episode 5: Project Seraph","type":"posts"},{"content":" Episode 4: Inconsequential Morality # The warm air of Joji’s breath hovered and swirled around his face. Its heat came as a welcome comfort as it fought and danced beautifully against the sharp and brash cold of the night.\nHe sat with his back to the large white mech; the hard metal met him with surprising support and solace. The heart of the ancient forest sat as a reminder of an emerald world of life and beauty, where nature was still flourishing and where the bloody hands of humankind had not yet grabbed hold with destructive intent, ripping roots and trees from the ground, grinding and burning all its path with ego, desire, and greed; systemic destruction of life, to paper over with grey decay.\nThe mech stood above Joji like an overbearing and impending shadow; and despite it all, Joji was glad for what felt like a companion.\nJoji looked to the sky but saw naught but the darkness of the canopy and the dark shape of the mech above him. He imagined the tiny shining specks of stars and planets in the night sky, and the great abyss of space between them. He wondered of the loneliness of a star hidden in the darkness, isolated in space in time - the gap between everything else in existence gradually moving further and further apart.\nHe felt lost in the heart of all that the forest was, sitting in the heavy air and scratching and movements of life.\nHe suddenly felt extremely small.\nAnd yet, the metal on his back provided a strange warmth - he was lost, but alone? Perhaps not.\nJoji’s eyes felt heavy, and just as the whispers of the forest faded, he drifted to sleep.\nJoji was walking with his friend.\nHe turned to see Eldred; he had messy light hair and soft eyes. Joji could not help but smile to himself as the pair of them shuffled along the muddy path. He looked around to see the ember sun sitting low on the horizon. The sky was painted with the warm, cosy haze of sunset - orange bled into pink, as though the fire of the sun was leaking and encompassing the horizon, only to fade to the increasingly darkness of the purples and blues above.\nThe horizon was flat - no buildings or hills interrupted the eyeline as far as one could see.\nThe pair walked, and giggled, and vague chatter littered the air between them.\nDarkness slowly descended from the heavens and shadows on the ground grew deeper and larger.\nSuddenly, the thunder of an eruption in the distance caused both Joji and Eldred to turn quickly. A towering plume of smoke was climbing into the sky. Just as abruptly, a second crashing, and then another, and another.\nThe serenity of the sunset had turned to a catastrophic and cataclysmic hellscape, the orange hues that now filled the air were those from the flame and burning of explosions in the distance.\nThe pair of them ran in panic - police cars came flying by, and Joji was filled with a sense of dread and guilt; a sense of inevitability that the police were there for them. Sirens blasted by, and both Joji and Eldred hid their faces as best they could.\nThe darkness of night had collapsed around them and engulfed everything - the clouds and smoke of explosions covered even the faintest flicker of moon and stars.\nThey stumbled upon a house in the darkness, and they ran through the door without hesitation.\nInside, the walls were dreary and plain; dirty and mouldy in places. Suddenly, high pitched screams burst through the hall way, and Eldred was attacked by 5 young children - despite being young, they were all tiny, the tallest barely reaching his knee.\nThey swarmed Eldred, biting and scratching at him - in the mayhem, Joji jumped in to help.\nEldred felt a burning sensation in his thigh, and a sharp, rusted knife had been thrust into his skin. He roared in agony, and Joji instinctively kicked out with all his might. The contact was true and violent. A child flew through the air, and in an instant smashed into the wall - his head jerked backwards and crashed into the wall, the noise of which sent a shiver through Joji’s spine.\nThe child’s body dropped to the floor with a thud.\nThe clamour abruptly came to a close and heavy silence filled the house. Even the remaining children stopped in shock, staring at the lifeless body across the room.\nEldred collapsed to the ground - the knife still implanted into his thigh.\nJoji hesitantly walked over the body on the floor. Each small step felt like the inching to an impending doom. Joji knew the truth already, and he desperately wanted to stay in the moment where the truth felt uncertain.\nHe turned around, and now Ake was looking at Eldred’s wound. The remaining children had been forced into a dog cage. The children now seemed smaller, and more doll-like than before.\nThe colour had faded from their faces, solemn dread and despair was now etched on their small faces. They looked out of the cage in the direction of the lifeless body.\n“Joji,” said Alex, “you know what we need to do right?”\nJoji looked up from the arm chair where he was sitting.\n“What? What do you mean?”\n“Joji, if they come and find these kids, they’ll know what you did.”\nHe looked over at the child lying on the floor. The child’s eyes were wide open and staring out into nothingness.\n“We have to get rid of all of them.”\nJoji now stood over the cage. The doll-like children felt even smaller still. He looked down at them like a giant; them looking up at terror at an unworldly evil to which there was no escape.\nThey begged and pleaded - the desperation was chilling, and the cage rattled with hopeless attempts to break free. But the pleas were lost in the abyss; Joji’s foot crashed down like a meteor and the bloodcurdling screams were lost in the distance and scale - like the screams of insects from the perspective of an unknowing person - the sad irony that despite the lack of intention, the deaths were even more senseless; simply inconsequential, leaving no mark on any measure of morality.\nAlex and Joji patted down the soil. They had worked in silence. They knew what needed to be done.\n“When they come looking for us, they’ll think the house was abandoned - just like everywhere else.” Alex said. “And hey, they were no parents anyway. It was going to happen anyway.”\nJoji slumped back into the rotting armchair. The room was musky. The wallpaper was peeling and the mould had infected the entire room. Joji could smell the damp and the decay.\nDespite that, his body craved the relief of sleep.\nThe room was now dark, only lit by the soft glow from the doorway to Joji’s right.\nJoji flinched at the shape of the shadow before him - it had, for a split second, taken the form of a body. He felt his body shiver - the hairs on his arms stood up, and his heart tightened as though clamped by someone reaching deep inside of him and squeezing.\nHe squeezed his eyes tightly and he saw the shadows for what they were - merely shadows.\nAnd yet, Joji remained on high alert, and he looked to the door and the hallway beyond it.\nHe felt something.\nHe felt the hairs on his head stand to attention again.\nHe was in danger, and his body knew it.\nHe heard the slow and terrifying scratching along the wooden floor.\nThe presence grew stronger.\nThe room darkened, and Joji could not keep his eyes away from the door.\nSomething was coming.\nJoji felt his heart beating violently through his chest.\nHe opened his mouth to shout for help, but nothing happened. His mouth felt like it was nailed shut, and for all his might and effort, it would not move.\nLong dark fingers grabbed hold of the door frame from the hallway, one by one, they peered as silhouettes from the glow.\nJoji tried once more to shout. This time his mouth was wrenched open, but no sound came out.\nSuddenly, the glow from the hallway shut off and darkness swallowed the entire room.\nJoji felt it coming.\nIt was there with him.\nIt was coming.\nIt was close.\nJoji tried with all his might. He felt glued to the chair. No words came from his mouth.\nHe forced it wider and wider.\nIt was too late.\n-aaa–aaaaaarAARRGGHH!\nJoji screamed and shot forward away from the mech. He felt the sharp cold air of the heart of the forest, and the faint silver shimmer of starlight and moonlight piercing the canopy. He could still feel the hammering from his chest, but the brisk air was a warm relief.\nJoji took a deep breath, trying to calm his body and to acclimatise to the real world.\nHe relaxed backwards, and gently rested his head on the mech behind him. Joji softly closed his eyes, and noticed the sore and heavy sensation from doing so.\nIn front of him, the loud shriek of birds rang out through the undergrowth, followed by the fluttering of wings as they flew up into the air.\nJoji’s eyes shot open again.\nA dozen silhouettes stood before him, rifles leveled at his chest.\nEpisode 3 - The Static of Disconnect\nEpisode 5 - Project Seraph\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this story, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Updates direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe ","date":"7 March 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/resonance-inconsequential-morality/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Resonance - Episode 4: Inconsequential Morality","type":"posts"},{"content":" Episode 3: The Static of Disconnect # Joji collapsed into the overgrown grass with a violent and sudden crash; the white mech stood in the shadow of the giant trees of the ancient and forgotten forest.\nThe separation from the mech had been abrupt and harrowing; the flow state of pure resonance had been a beautiful dance of instinct and intuition, acting at the orchestration and direction of emotion and chaos.\nThe split and crash to the ground was an unplugging from the pure, and the destination was the piercing and unrelenting static of life.\nThe soft patter and chirping of the insects and animals of the forest hammered at Joji like an offensive and stabbing drumming, infiltrating his consciousness like a barrage of pins.\nThe piercing sound of nature was layered with the overwhelming laceration of the static; it was the vibration and hum from the contrast of leaving a noisy environment, but rather than a slow suffocation, the noise of this static was a sharp asphyxiation compressing his consciousness with venom and intent.\nJoji grabbed hold of his head, clutching his fingers at his scalp and writhed at the unrelenting assault.\nThe white mech stood like a witness to the chaos - the dense dark forest covered most of its body like a jacket of nature; the moonlight barely pierced the ceiling of the canopy, and yet Joji could see the static. The white flickering glitch filled his eyes like a layer between him and the world. He closed his eyes and as he did the glow erupted and flooded his consciousness.\nHe rolled onto his back and pressed the palm of his hands into his eye sockets. His body was sinking into the overgrown grass like a sailor thrown overboard at night. He was being swallowed by the earth and foliage, thin and lonely rays of moonlight made their way to this pit of despair.\nMemories and emotion flooded him.\nHe saw the faces of his friends and loved ones replaying in his mind’s eye, interlaced with one another, yet distinct and separate. The scenes were overwhelming his mind, and the static wasn’t patient enough to present them to Joji with order and etiquette.\nEvery memory played the same look on their faces. The look of anguish and quiet despair - of putting in care and effort just to find a disinterested and detached Joji.\nThat look.\nThe soft smile, but sad eyes that hid nothing. The quick look down and poor attempts to mask sadness, the subtle swallow and acceptance that their efforts would never be enough.\nThe same look, time and time again.\nEach look cut into Joji’s guilt; the embodiment of dissatisfaction; he was the cold disinterested gravity that pulled the light from their faces. He was the abyss that took the warmth and love, and swallowed them without a word of gratitude.\nA further glitch and the faces wiped from existence.\nInstead, the violent jagged edge of a purple blade lay before him; a UGA officer standing, wide open and mouth agape. The tears in his eyes flickered with the reflection of the flickering purple blade. The white mech stood in the reflection of the ever cracking window.\nThe static suddenly came to an end - a final glitch of a distorted reality and Joji was filled with a leaden and heavy heart as memories of the attack on the orbital station were presented to his consciousness.\nTerrifying explosions encapsulated his entire being as the mech shielded the station’s weapons with a semi-transparent and shimmering purple energy shield. He saw what it was like to stand in the middle of an exploding inferno; he saw himself dropping down and flying to the station amongst the chaos of its attacks, he saw the cracking glass and the terrified faces, he saw the purple energy sword cut open the station as though the grey metal was naught but fog and mist.\nThe noise of the forest had lifted, and his heart had been anchored down with a deep and harrowing realisation of time lost and of his actions in the mech.\nHe looked up at the towering white machine standing amidst the darkness like a metallic reaper, a robotic angel of wild design and evil intent. Even against the greys and blacks of the shadows of the forest, the mech’s white stood out like an anomaly.\nJoji looked down at his hands; he saw the metaphorical blood staining them and felt the warmth of the same in stark contrast to the chill of the night air.\nThe overwhelm of the disconnect had been swept away, and yet what disturbed Joji the most was not the powerfully deep feeling of guilt, but rather the profound lack of it. Despite the heaviness pulling on his heart, he did not feel guilt as the flicker of memories replayed again and again in more and more clarity.\nHe looked into the dark eyes of the mech and saw himself - the lack of remorse and guilt, the cold interior, robotic and silent.\nHis eyes shot open abruptly - he had remembered leaving his friends as they had camped. He remembered finding the mech. He remembered first piloting it. He remembered the feeling of pure bliss as the burden and heaviness of the world faded, and he felt the resonance of truly being and surrendering to instinct and the flow of emotion. He remembered those first few flights.\nBut, what else had he forgotten?\nHe lay on the ground and stared up at the canopy. The forest creaked and chattered as it breathed deeply in the middle of the night, but Joji lay in quiet contemplation. He lay, feeling everything and nothing at the same time - thoughts drifted between memories of the past and memories that did not feel as though they were his. He saw her fleeting face and the soft touch of her hand. He tasted the cold iron of space with a sense of familiarity, despite never consciously leaving the Earth.\nThe flow of consciousness and thought spiralled like a white rapids, every effort to think was akin to sticking his hand in the raging flow of the river trying to redirect it for his own investigation.\nJoji’s limbs lay heavy against the forest floor. His body ached with dense fatigue, he felt himself sinking into the ground, unable, or unwilling to move. He suddenly became aware of the soreness between his lips; they felt dry and cracked, and yet held together with a thin layer of moisture. He thought back to when he last drank. He too became aware of the ache in his stomach and the tightening of his abdominals.\nHe sighed and climbed to his feet.\nEpisode 2 - From the Abyss\nEpisode 4 - Inconsequential Morality\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this story, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Updates directl to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe ","date":"1 March 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/resonance-the-static-of-disconnect/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Resonance - Episode 3: The Static of Disconnect","type":"posts"},{"content":" Episode 2: From the Abyss # The Earth glistened like a magical and otherworldly glass orb floating against a backdrop of the deepest black of space. In its highest orbit, where its gravity was merely a fleeting whimper, a tremendous, grey orbital station floated menacingly out of the shadows.\nIt was one of many that now clung to the Earth’s orbit by the remnants of its gravitational pull and cleverly calculated movements. But, such is the vastness of space, it appeared on its own in isolation in the swallowing darkness of the vacuum of space - the small marble of planet Earth on one side, and the seemingly endless night on the other.\nAdorning the sides of the station were the words, UNITED GLOBAL ACCORD. The letters were thin and elegant; and yet the words were bold and the message even bolder. There were no rivets, no weld marks, no signs of human industry or struggle - just the silent, backlit glow of a logo that promised a peace and unity that felt indistinguishable from a grave, perfectly adorning a mechanical wonder of industry.\nThe orbital station was large and intimidating. It was the latest station to be installed by UGA for the protection of all.\nThe series of orbital stations now surrounded the globe, shackled to the planet to keep them from drifting off into the endless void, manned by UGA and its most innovative technology.\nLooking out into the beautiful and all-encompassing abyss of the solar system was like sitting at the cusp of an endless and inevitable night. The mechanical whirring inside the station and the technology, weaponry, and surveillance that it housed, sat on the edge of a black storm as a symbol of man’s unquenchable desire for control over nature and the universe.\nSuddenly, the harsh flashing of an alarm and warning jumped onto the screens in the main deck in the station.\n“Sir, an incoming object in sector 6FF!”\nThere was regimental and structured clamouring and shouts in the station, as the men and women in their official UGA uniforms hurriedly tried to make sense of the warnings displayed across more and more screens.\n“Well?!” spat a large man in his 50’s, his clean-shaved face was completed with a stern and harrowing brow, distinctive cheekbones that felt out of place for a man of his size, and two deep craters where his eyes sat.\n“Is anyone going to provide an update or do I need to send you out there to look?!”\n“Sir,” came a monotone reply devoid of any panic or emotion, “something has triggered the radar, but it has no identifying signal or tags, it has to be an asteroid or debris - we have full visibility of everything colony side.”\nThe stern-faced officer stood, cross-armed, staring out into the darkness through a large viewing window. The sharp white fluorescent lights framed the blackness of space with an impossibly magnificent contrast that was lost on the officer. His muted grey uniform and silhouette added the small flicker of a paintbrush on an otherwise black canvas framed by the piercing luminosity of the deck’s lights.\nThe shrieking of the artificial and vibrating alarm continued to ring out through the station.\nThe officer’s eyes narrowed, and his overbearing brow tweaked and angled as he focused into the darkness. Despite the ferocity of his glare, nothing was visible or moving in the depths of the solar system before him.\nHis focus waned, and the faint, ghostly reflection of an aging, greying man appeared in the thick window - his frown deepened and intensified at its presence and he expelled a violent rush of hot air through his nostrils.\nThe ghostly figure in the reflection faded into the darkness of space as the officer’s eyes focused once more. As it did, a small glint and a shimmer of light flickered in the distance.\nHe squinted, trying with all his might to make visible the sparkling flash now visible out of the abyss in front of him.\n“What…the…” he mouthed with thin, pale lips.\n“Sir! A mech!” came a now panicked cry from the bridge.\n“A mech!” shouted the officer in reply, he spun around quickly, “well?! Who is it?!”\nThe robotic and calm demeanour of the station was creaking, and the air of anxiety and doubt was now infecting the bridge.\n“It - it has no identifying signals- there’s nothing - the radar is saying nothing!”\n“That’s impossible!” spat the officer. “There’s no technology that can hide from our radars!”\n“It’s not hidden, Sir! There’s just no ID beacon, no AI signal, it’s either turned off and floating through space or-”\n“Or what goddammit!?”\n“-there’s no system input or AI software.”\nThe officer slammed his fists on the desk of the now visibly shaking soldier reading from the screen in front of him.\n“Don’t be stupid! That’s impossible!”\nHe ran to the viewing window, and there he saw it.\nAgainst the never ending darkness of space, a solitary white mech cut through the void like an angelic being of chaos and power. It flickered like a star against the black backdrop - its pure and brazen white illuminated as the rays from the distant sun caught its metallic features; such a contrast the mech created with the abyss, that the grey of the UGA orbital station faded into dark obscurity, sinking unintentionally to the black of space.\nFor a brief moment, the angelic image of the mech standing against the background of the solar system caused all emotion and defiance from the officer to drain away and fade, much like the ghostly reflection in the viewing window glass.\nHe squeezed his fist tightly with vigour and it shook under the strain - the veins in his hand constricted and pulsed.\n“Fire all guns on the colony side at that mech!”\nHurried shouts of UGA soldiers hammering on screens and calibrating technology followed, and the dozens of large guns on the colony side of the orbital station all moved in a terrifying unison as they locked onto the white mech in the distance.\nAnd from the dark grey of the UGA orbital station, a chorus of thunderous guns erupted with a glorious explosion of deathly intent - huge vibrations and crashes shook the very foundations of the station, and eruptions of fire, plasma, and lasers shot through the silent void of space in the direction of the mech.\nIn the blink of an eye, the glistening white mech was replaced with an expulsion of light and power. Vast explosions of death and fury erupted and painted the darkness with clouds and splashes of colour.\nThe flashes of the eruptions strobed the face of the officer as he stared in shock and awe.\nAs the brilliance of the explosions settled and faded, the black of space enveloped all - the white glisten of the mech was nowhere to be seen.\nThe officer’s thin lips curled into a devilish smirk.\n“The power of UGA…” he muttered under his breath, “well, whoever you were, your insolence to even appear in our presence… it makes my blood boil! To think anyone could hide.”\nHe looked down at the palm of his hand.\n“Power is ours, and ours alone - finally, we can ensure the safety and control of-”\n“Sir! On the radar- something- it’s- the mech!”\nThe officer shot his gaze upwards in pure shock, and before him, separated by the thick viewing window and barely ten metres of unobstructed space, was the white mech.\nThe officer took a step back and trembled - up close he could now see the neon glow of the mech’s purple eyes. The deep, pulsing, purple cut through the officer’s soul. The glow hummed and leaked into the abyss of the black of space.\nHe took another step back.\nThe mech moved as though in slow motion. Its large metallic arm reached behind its back.\nThe bridge was silent save for the repeating and robotic warning alarm still ringing, although that too was strangled out by the heavy cloud of terror now engulfing the station.\nThe mech pulled from its back a pulsating plasma sword, unsheathing it like a mysterious samurai from centuries prior. The sword vibrated like glitching static, its purple flicker matching the neon glow of the mech’s eyes.\nIn one swift movement, the mech pointed the sword in the direction of the viewing window.\nThe purple hues and sparks of pure energy and feverish destruction arced and bled into space as the sword could not contain itself.\nThe viewing window started to crack and chip.\nThe mech drew its arm back as though to thrust forward.\nEpisode 1 - Synchronisation Complete\nEpisode 3 - The Static of Disconnect\n","date":"21 February 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/resonance-from-the-abyss/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Resonance - Episode 2: From the Abyss","type":"posts"},{"content":" Episode 1: Synchronisation Complete # The stars and the moon illuminated the perfect night sky like magical gems of untold wealth and beauty. The jagged tips of the tall trees of the forest framed the horizon, and the air was sharp and cold.\nThe glistening moonlight provided an almost ghostly silver lining to the forest and the clearing where Joji stood, looking out into the abyss of the space above him. The faint wisps of his warm breath swirled and danced as they diluted the brisk cold air - creating a ballet of circling life essence floating up before slowly dissipating into the otherwise ever absorbing darkness above him.\nHe looked down the path toward the cheerful laughter and muffled chatter.\nA soft ember hue glowed from the encampment where his friends were drinking and celebrating.\nThe pastel greys and blacks of smoke rose up from the camp fire - adding more depth and darkness to the sky above them.\nJoji smiled as the faces of his friends replayed in his mind. His heart felt the warmth of their smiles and their happiness - and as it did, his dark eyes felt heavy with tears. Joji smiled, but his eyes told a story of grief and hurt. His lip trembled slightly, but he forced it back into the shape of a smile.\nJoji felt the emotion and love for his friends, but he knew it clearer than ever; it did not come close to filling the emptiness and space within him, and nor did it come close to the thread of meaning and life that he now needed. He needed it, his mind needed it, his body needed it.\nThis wouldn’t be enough.\nNothing ever was.\nThe guilt cut through Joji like a hammer blow to his soul - his mouth tasted iron, and he could feel his brain shooting out cries for help to his body. He knew he had to leave; he knew they wouldn’t understand. His brain was trying with all its might to flood his system with cognition and thoughts of rationality - it had been the main safety valve all these years; it had been there to flood his body with doubt, to blur the emotion and drive that was pulling on his soul and scratching at him. His mind, his thoughts, he had understood, were what kept him rooted to the normal and mundane.\nBut this time, he had already surrendered to the chaos within him.\nHe opened the hatch on the mech and strapped himself into the cockpit.\nHe started flicking the switches for the start sequence; and the cockpit was plunged into darkness. Joji contemplated the noise in his vision - for although the cockpit was darker than the night sky, his vision was still glowing with the ever present static, flickering and firing at all times like a glitching monitor. Hot white flashes, dark red pin drops firing, multicoloured and tiny, it was as though he could see the very firing of the electricity shooting in his body.\nJoji sat and waited for the mech to initialise.\nThe soft humming of the mech’s AI was the only sound filling Joji’s head.\nHe knew he had to go alone.\nThe isolation cut through him sharply, like a further glitch, and the static of his vision pulsed.\nIt was a cruel and damning irony, that his need for solitude and the dull blade of loneliness were one and the same. The noise and irritation of the external grey distractions were a constant bombardment on his senses. The small talk, the pointless conversation, the sighing, the shuffling, the sniffing, the expectations, the energy of the soul sucking insecurities of people that paraded themselves to the world with fraudulent confidence - all attacked him all day, every day. It was like stepping out into a sandstorm every day - and there was only so much he could cope with. He was not made to walk among such noise, and now he had felt the peace and familiarity of resonance, it made the frequency of such displeasure, unbearable.\nAnd yet, when the noise was shut out - Joji found himself alone in the vacuum. It was only with the quiet that Joji could hear that there was nobody else. Amongst the clutter in his senses, the emptiness made it more evident than ever that whilst everyone else was operating with one frequency and in one space; he was someone else entirely, standing alone.\nThe soft hum of the AI suddenly whirred with an added vigour, and neon green writing on the screens around Joji started to roll and jolt - the glow of the green painted the cockpit and Joji’s face.\nDespite the aversion and irritation; he wished he was like them.\nHe knew his friends wouldn’t understand, how could they? But he wished they could feel it. He wished that someone could understand.\nDon’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.\nThe Mech’s system started and as it burst to life, “Syncing…” flashed on the monitor. Joji took a deep breath, and the confusion and grief that was weighing heavy on his heart was replaced with clarity and calmness, as though the dense fog had been cut into and swept away.\nJoji’s body jolted violently as the system started the synchronisation process.\nThe glitches in his head came back.\nFlashing images filled his thoughts and cut through the static. He flinched and jerked. He saw the memories of times past, and images of emotions and moments that he had yet to experience. Whether they were his imagination, or something to come; he could never be sure.\nWhat he did know was that the more he allowed himself to drift away from the grey, the more he allowed himself to move from his cognitive thoughts to rely on his emotion and instincts, the more that side of him that he had tried to bury was coming to the forefront of control.\nHe had started to see and feel the threads of life that he needed to have. They split through life like weaving strings of pure chaos - within touching distance and yet always out of reach. Bright yellow and glowing like electricity; he could feel the same energy and danger flowing within him.\nHe knew that if he could just reach out and grab hold… The noise would stop.\nIt’s why he needed to leave and continue fighting; the violence and danger of the battlefield filled him with a beautiful calm where cognition stopped and his soul took the reins; pure resonance.\n\u0026ldquo;Synchronisation… Complete.\u0026rdquo;\nJoji glitched again, this time he was walking next to her. Their shoulders touched; not deliberately, but not by accident. He felt the resonance. He could feel her presence and feel her soul pulling him in. It was the same threads of chaos, and the same energy that was desperate to explode from him. He felt the peace. It was pulling him in. He was ready. True surrender. He could feel it and he couldn’t stop - it was as though they were two stars trapped in a gravity field and an inevitable collapsing and collision; he was ready for the implosion, true resonance.\nThe mech growled into life and the perfect night sky and echoes of laughter and chatter was spoiled by the metallic roar of engines and power.\nEpisode 2 - From the Abyss\n","date":"15 February 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/resonance-synchronisation-complete/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Resonance - Episode 1: Synchronisation Complete","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"8 February 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/freedom-inc/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"Freedom Inc","type":"categories"},{"content":"","date":"8 February 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/freedom-inc/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Freedom Inc","type":"tags"},{"content":" Episode 1 - The Early Bird # Arthur was alone in the darkness of dawn when he escaped the empty street and made his way into the tall grey office building of Freedom Inc.\nHe pushed the button for the elevator, and he checked his watch.\n7:34.\nHe ran his hand through his thinning hair, and a sharp smirk grew into existence.\nArthur stood, hands in the pockets of his khaki coat, looking at his reflection in the elevator mirror as it grumbled and hummed and shook with just enough vigour to make one nervous, and it slowly climbed the innards of Freedom Inc.\nThe elevator dinged, and Arthur took one more glance at his tie, straightening it carefully and prudently, before checking his watch once more.\n7:36.\nArthur was the first one to arrive on his floor. The smirk on his face had now refined itself and matured into a smug and devilish grin. He bounced across the floor with a delightful and joyous grace.\nHe hung up his coat, and plopped down onto his desk chair.\nThe soft whir of the office lights rang gently, filling the space with an annoying white light that fought, and was winning, against the dark hues from the morning sky sneaking in through the large office windows.\nArthur checked his watch.\n7:38.\nHe stood up and cautiously peeked his head over the safety of the cubicle walls and scouted the floor. His eyes peered and glanced at the surrounding area, standing up straight like a guarding meerkat.\nHe was the only one there.\nHe slumped down again, and rubbed his hands together whilst giggling menacingly to himself like an evil villain. The giggle continued and Arthur embraced the moment - the laughter shook his belly and his head knocked back as the joy and menace flowed through him. He stood and raised his arms above his head - his giggled had now transformed to fully fledged hysterical laughter.\n“Today…IS THE DAY!” he declared with vigour.\nArthur shrunk down and huddled, hands clasped together in front of his face. The maniacal laughter had died down; his brow was stern and focused, and his eyes closed. He erratically lurched forward and grabbed the silver picture frame from his desk. He stroked the corners and purred.\n“My precious, Jules…”\nHe pulled the picture closer to his face. His brown eyes now focused on the young woman beaming back to him, her hands resting on a very pregnant belly.\n“No more…”\nHe exhaled and kissed the picture.\n“I’m turning things around. No more late starts; no more being the butt of the jokes.”\n“This is for us.”\nArthur checked his watch one more time.\n7:45.\n“You’re the god damn best worker this company has ever seen Arthur.” he told himself as he rose to his feet.\n“But first!” he declared with importance, “the toilet!”\nThe men’s room was pristine. Lemony fresh. The overly bright light illuminated the tiny bathroom like a show room. He unzipped his zipper.\n“Chilly morning today, isn’t it chap?” came a very proper voice from his left.\n“I guess so.” answered Arthur on autopilot, and without turning his head.\nArthur thought briefly about proper bathroom etiquette. Even now, he found it weird how common it was to converse whilst mid relieving-\nWait.\nArthur did a double take, and slowly turned his head in the direction of the british sounding voice. He blinked several times and his eye brows migrated north away from his eyes in shock.\nStanding at the urinal beside him, peering up at him with large, dark, beady eyes, was a badger.\nIt was wearing a very swanky purple waistcoat, a large black top-hat, and an extremely extravagant gold-rimmed monocle that sparkled and shone as it reflected the bathroom lights.\nIt adjusted its monocle and as it did so, its swirly, immaculately groomed moustache bounced and wiggled.\n“I am terribly sorry about this old boy,” said the badger in its rich aristocratic voice.\n“Sorry about wha-”\nTHUMP.\n✧ Arthur awoke slowly, with a groan.\nHe saw the darkness behind his eyes and it suddenly came back to him. A badger? In the toilet… ?\nHe cautiously opened his eyes. A dim grey light pierced the gloom. He blinked hard; and opened his eyes slowly.\nBetween the fuzzy black was the face of the well groomed badger - monocle, moustache, and top hat included.\nHe blinked even harder, but the badger remained. Its furry head was mere inches from Arthur’s face, causing him to flinch violently - he threw his head backwards and hit it on the wall behind him.\nHe was slumped up against a wall; it was dark, cramped, and stuffy. The air was damp, and resembled that of a wet dog.\n“THE HUMAN IS AWAKE!” came a high pitched scream, followed by a chorus of wild cheering and the pitter patter of small animal feet and paws.\n“There you go old chap, I do apologise for the bump on the head and all the secrecacy; needs must and all that.” spoke the badger politely and calmly.\nArthur dared not speak - he rubbed the back of his head and scanned the cramped room to see small woodland creatures in every nook and cranny. Squirrels, mice, birds, a fox, and standing behind the badger, with a vacant and dumbfounded look on its face, a large boar.\nArthur opened his mouth, but words failed him.\n“Let’s get this over with!” shouted the fox with a certain venom.\n“Now, let’s be calm,” replied the badger, “Arthur here, must be in some shock.”\nThe badger turned and slowly paced away from Arthur, and stroked his chin. He turned sharply and slowly approached Arthur.\n“Just do it Montgomery!” came a shout from the crowd.\nArthur flinched again, and backed up into the wall, hoping for it to open up and swallow him.\nThe badger rolled its eyes and shouted back. “Really? Really?”\nIt straightened its monocle.\n“What happened to not using our names Jarvis? Seriously.”\n“Oh sorry,” came a muffled cry from up somewhere on a shelf.\n“Very well,” said Montgomery the badger. “I suppose we should get this over and done with.”\nHe made its way to Arthur, arms behind his back, and stepping slowly and deliberately - menacingly.\n“Wait, wait!” exclaimed Arthur, “I have a pregnant wife, don’t hurt me! Please I’m not above begging please!”\n“HOHOHO” the badger laughed deep from its belly - its little waistcoat shuffling and shaking as he did so.\n“What do you think this is Arthur dear chap? We’re not going to hurt you!”\nMontgomery got in Arthur’s face, his nose now touching Arthur’s.\n“We’re the resistance. And you Arty lad, are our man on the inside!”\nThe small creatures clapped and cheered, small squeaks and excitable noises filled the room. Arthur could not help but notice the tall boar had not moved.\n“I -”\n“See!” Montgomery cheered, “he is speechless with gratitude!”\nThe cheering of the animals had turned feverish.\n“I know you won’t let us down.” said the badger, “oh and make sure you keep this secret, you can’t be telling them of our plans.”\n“What?! I don’t understand what plans? I don’t know what’s going on!” shouted Artur in disbelief.\n“That’s the spirit! We’ll be in touch chap, we’re all relying on you!” THUMP\n✧ Arthur opened his eyes, this time to the sight of the grey sky and dark clouds above him.\nHe sat up and rubbed his head, running his fingers over two large paw sized lumps.\nHis tie was a mess, he was missing a shoe, and he was covered in leaves and twigs.\nArthur’s eyes shot open. He checked his watch.\n9:14.\nHe jumped up in a flash; as he sprinted towards the office building his feet left dust clouds such was his ferocity. He jumped through the door and tapped vigorously and violently at the lift button.\nThe elevator beeped as the small number above the doors turned from 2 to 3.\n“WHY ME!” shouted Arthur in disbelief. The elevator was going up.\nHe spun, leaving his tie flying through the air behind him and he ran towards the stairs. He was climbing like a man possessed; skipping one step at a time, then two, and then three!\nHe reached the meeting room and burst through the door, where he stood, panting and sweating. His tie was hanging over his shoulder and his big toe was sticking through a hole in his shoeless sock, his hair was wild, and mud painted his clothes.\n“Nice of you to join us, Arthur.” shot a balding, well dressed, corporate looking man.\nThe lights flickered above the meeting table and the eyes of all of Arthur’s colleagues were now firmly planted on him, weighing his soul down like his expensive mortgage and the baby crib he had forgotten to buy.\n“Any particular reason why, not only are you late, but you look as though you have been dragged backwards through a hedge?”\nArthur opened his mouth to explain, and the picture of the badger, the fox, the gormless boar, flooded his mind.\n“A badg- a, a, in the toilet - animals - secr-”\nHis head fell with heavy resignation. It was pointless.\nHe slumped down into the empty seat, and slammed his hands into his pockets - trying to shrink as small as he could. His left hand brushed against something hard.\nIt was small, round, and rough.\nSlowly, and carefully, he pulled his hand from under the table, shielding it from any prying eyes. He opened his palm.\nIt was a single acorn.\nArthur flinched, almost dropping it out the palm of his hand, and as he did so the acorn rolled and fell onto its side.\nArthur squinted. On the side of the shell, carved with surgical precision, was perfect smily face.\nArthur stared at it. The face smiled back.\nThe manager’s laptop hummed louder.\n","date":"8 February 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/freedom-inc-episode-1-the-early-bird/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Freedom Inc - Episode 1: The Early Bird","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"2 January 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/connection/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Connection","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 January 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/loneliness/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Loneliness","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 January 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/reflections/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"Reflections","type":"categories"},{"content":"","date":"2 January 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/reflections/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Reflections","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 January 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/understood/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Understood","type":"tags"},{"content":"It’s strangely poetic that many of us are in a constant state of flux, waiting for some sort of spark or impetus to change and to be and to do more.\nIt’s sad, yet magical in its own way, that people drift through life feeling something is always just within their reach, yet there is always something stopping them from stretching out their hand and grabbing hold. Even when life is tough and we are lost in our busy and shallow lives, there are moments when we become acutely aware that the magic strands of life are there to be grasped, and for a fleeting moment we are filled with hope as we look, see, and feel the potential of threads of possibility.\nThe end of the year gives many of us a moment in time in which we feel such possibilities, it is a time for reflection and contemplation of dreams, goals, and of ourselves. We are all looking for excuses to be brave and looking for opportunities to be honest and opportunities to allow us to exert a level of control of which we are sorely lacking from our lives.\nAnd so, we choose this moment of the Earth’s orbit to reflect and contemplate.\nWhere there is hope and endless possibilities, there is also despair and regret; and so too often this time of quiet dreaming and nostalgia is tainted and corrupted by the heaviness of the judgement, pressure, and ideals of a noisy and shallow society.\nAs I sat and reflected on my own year and my dreams for the future, my thoughts dwelt and spiraled by the usual darkness and dogma of modern life. I pondered just how I should record and share my journey over the next year, how I should track my progress, and how I should announce myself to the world with my accomplishments as evidence.\nI found it curious just how much importance I was giving the sharing and recording of my progress, and I found myself drawn to the tree in the forest and the question as to whether it falls and no one is near, does it still make a sound? Certainly, we are conditioned to believe that an experience isn’t real unless we post it and share it with the world.\nOn a certain level, it is a question as to the extent of which it can exist if it is not perceived or witnessed. For a long time, I have felt as though I have existed in a world between worlds, floating through existence as an observer; aware of all but not quite present.\nPerhaps I had held the belief that, much like the tree in the forest, I need to be perceived; I need to be seen and understood, simply to exist. It is the missing piece for many who feel out of place and who feel the constant weight of loneliness amongst crowds of people; it is maybe an easily imagined and rationalised answer - that connection and the feeling of being understood will fill this missing piece in our souls, to finally integrate ourselves into the world, to finally feel like a whole person.\nAnd so it’s undeniable that I, perhaps like many other people, look to share to seek connection; and what better opportunity to share and connect than by evidencing to the world that we exist, that we have achieved, that we are here.\nDespite this, there is still something sinister lying beneath the surface that my brain could not quite make sense of.\nAs I imagine the threads of our consciousness looking outwards for connection, I cannot help but feel sadness and anger.\nInitially I thought it to be because of the toxicity and pressure of modern life; social media, the need to impress, the shallowness and performative nature of what it means to be successful in a world that praises and rewards greed - a world that thrives on an undercurrent of hatred and judgment, devoid of emotion and empathy.\nAs my thoughts spiraled and swirled against a backdrop of curiosity, resolutions, and fireworks; what saddened me is that so many people, including myself, have been searching for connection and reaching out to be understood and to be seen as if to validate our own existence.\nWe have been reaching out with our arms stretched hoping for someone to see us, and we thought that by being seen we would finally have value to the world; and all along we have failed to see that our value is not defined by how we are seen or perceived, but rather our value is inherent in our very existence.\nPeople should feel honoured and privileged to understand you; the most special treasures that the universe has to offer are one of a kind, and people will spend their lives trying to unlock their secrets. They exist whether or not they are understood, and their value is all the same.\nAnd so those things that I do choose to share with the world, I share not as evidence of my existence, nor for validation or to be seen or understood; but rather because I want you to know that your value and worth are beyond reckoning, and that the universe is made all that better for you simply existing. Some messages are worth sharing, some joys are worth putting out into the world, something beautiful and true should be admired.\nAnd if that does not cover it, sometimes I am simply a little penguin who likes to share shiny rocks.\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this reflection, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Reflections and stories direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe ","date":"2 January 2026","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/you-do-not-need-to-be-understood/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"You Do Not Need to Be Understood","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"24 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/burnout/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Burnout","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"24 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/depression/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Depression","type":"tags"},{"content":"Maya melted into the ground and allowed her body to sink deeper into the dusty hard wooden floor. Candles had been lit, but the house oozed with dark grey. The moonlight split through the darkness like a sleek dagger, and the ember flicker of candle light added a certain warmth to the room - but even so, Maya lay flat against the cold floorboards, drowning in the heaviness and despair of her new house.\nShe lay staring at the shadows and cobwebs on the ceiling, and the winds blew through the trees and overgrowth of the forest around her and whistled and stirred as though to mock her.\nEven the dust, floating and gliding in the spotlight of the moon and candlelight, hovered and fell and swirled as if laughing at her pain and misery.\nShe lay, hoping to be swallowed by the ground beneath her; urging the earth to open wide and bury her into the stomach of the forest where perhaps she would find some peace, some quiet, some safety.\nTears wet her eyes until the weight of the salty liquid grief spilled over and rolled down and around her slender face.\nThe trees outside held their breath and a heavy silence filled the house.\nThe rooms were now littered with Maya\u0026rsquo;s possessions which sat atop the aged dust and dirt of the house, and yet despite the clutter and messiness in the dark, the house felt empty, and Maya felt more alone than ever.\nAs shadow and nature alike sat still and peered and stared into the grey void; Maya relented to her sadness and her despairing sobs cut through the heavy silence. As she fought to catch her breath she curled into a ball and wrapped herself tight, trying with all her might to disappear and shrink amongst the boxes of stuff that filled the space around her.\n✧ The days turned into weeks, and as they did the darkness of the nights began to grow and slowly absorb the warmth and light of the autumn days. And just as the weeks slipped by, the sharpness of the cold stealthily made its way into the forest and into Maya\u0026rsquo;s home. The floor boards felt colder and older, and they started to ache and creak and moan more with each passing day.\nMaya had made progress in unpacking, but the house increasingly became more akin to an obstacle course of half empty boxes and scattered piles of stuff.\nThe spiders too had noticed the creeping of the winter and had become temporary residents. They had taken shelter in the dark corners and had built their webs and pathways over doors and furniture. They felt fortunate to have a house guest like Maya, who paid neither them or their dangling webs any mind or attention.\nThey had come to watch over Maya and her days spent moping from her bedroom to the sofa. They watched with sympathy as she spent evenings alone cuddled under a blanket wiping tears from her eyes.\nProgress on the house was slow.\nOn one cold evening she lay on the sofa and contemplated the increasingly difficult journey across the room to the stairs, the arduous and perilous ascent up to the first floor, and the final leg to her room and into bed. She finished the last drop of water from her plastic bottle and allowed her arm to flop.\nEverything was very much hard work.\nShe allowed her hand to relax and the empty plastic bottle slipped through her grip and dropped to the floor. It settled with new found company among the food wrappers and other discarded plastic bottles.\nThe spiders looked down and frowned; worried at the state of their new found home.\n✧ Maya opened her eyes.\nShe had drifted to sleep on the sofa. The journey to her bedroom had seemed too daunting before she had found the relief of her slumber, but as she hugged herself tightly and felt her body shiver, perhaps this was the wrong night to settle for the blanket.\nThe house was silent. The spiders and the floorboards were peacefully sleeping, and even the wind and trees outside were compliant, abiding by everyone\u0026rsquo;s need for rest and a good night\u0026rsquo;s sleep.\nMaya pulled the blanket over her head, and began to breathe hot air from her mouth into the sanctuary of her new safe space.\nShe allowed a faint smile to form. It had felt like an age since she had felt any sense of joy, but for some reason her impersonation of a dragon to provide the warmth for her blanket touched upon an innocence and playfulness that had been buried and hidden.\nIt was then that she flinched.\nA noise\u0026hellip; from the floor?\nPerhaps a draught of wind had tickled the rubbish on the floor? Perhaps a mouse scurrying through the maze?\nMaya dared not move, but felt silly all the same.\nThe house had moved, she thought, or perhaps she hadn\u0026rsquo;t heard anything after all.\n✧ Maya woke once more, this time to the soft light of morning filling the house. The warmth had started to soak into the walls and the floors, and the house began to wake, feeling refreshed and grateful for the cheery greeting from the morning sun.\nThe spiders felt energised, and the floorboards and supports welcomed the warm embrace of daylight, feeling happy and ready to hold up the house for another day.\nMaya on the other hand, scrunched her eyes and felt the puffiness of her cheeks. Whilst she had slipped quickly back to sleep, her face and eyes felt heavy and she didn\u0026rsquo;t quite feel the level of replenishment that her eight legged house mates felt.\nShe slumped her head to the side and stared aimlessly at the mess piling up and the half empty boxes, at the newest layer of dust and the marks where she had disrupted it the day before, and the three empty plastic bottles stood up and organised neatly against the wall.\nShe ran her hand through her hair and-\nMaya blinked hard and took a second, then third, then fourth look at the plastic bottles.\nEven the spiders in the corner of the room froze in their webs and gave confused glances to one another.\nShe lay on the sofa, puzzled and confused. She jumped off the sofa and onto the floor, frantically looking for the discarded plastic bottle from the night before.\nThe floor was still cold, and her frantic scrambling and flailing caused wrappers and boxes alike to crash and crumple, and she desperately searched for that missing piece of sanity.\nMaya paused, flustered. Her dark hair was now bushy and ruffled from her scurrying across the floor.\nShe stared at the bottles still, and cautiously, and slowly, crawled to the bottles.\nThe spiders watched, holding their breaths, and paralysed by anticipation, as Maya inched closer and closer to the bottles.\nShe dragged herself on her hands and knees until she was within touching distance of the three culprits.\nShe bit her lower lip gently, and she reached out\u0026hellip;\nIn an act of courage and blind faith and trust, so she told herself, her hand moved closer and closer and closer\u0026hellip;\ntap\nMaya felt as though the world itself stood still and held its breath and she pressed her finger against one of the bottles. She did not know what she expected, but she had to know that the bottles were real.\nAnd, nothing happened.\nShe blinked several times more, and then burst into laughter.\n✧ Several days had passed since the bottle incident. Winter had continued its march toward the village, and it was starting to bring with it friends in the form of a bitter chill and an ever increasingly aggressive wind which clamoured against Maya\u0026rsquo;s house and rattled the windowpanes.\nMaya had kept herself busy by learning how to use the fire, albeit with varying success.\nShe had, on one occasion, managed to nurture a caring and warm flame that danced and flickered at just the right speed that the entire room was filled with an ember glow and a deep, beautiful comfort. The spiders edged closer to warm their little bodies, and Maya had sat enamored by the yellows and oranges, entrapped in a perpetuating ballet - gracefully flowing and shimmering, and touching and warming her bones. She had sat with a sparkle in her eyes and a beaming smile across her face - the princess of fire she thought to herself.\nBut, much like the fleeting feeling of joy and happiness that filled Maya\u0026rsquo;s heart, so too was the warmth of the fire short lived.\nTry as she might, the fire either burned too bright and too consuming that it quickly burned out; or the heat of the embers failed to ignite and spark to life long enough to hold back the ensuing attack of the bitterness that winter was bringing.\nWhere she had succeeded, however, was in creating more mess in the form of soot and potential ingredients for the fire.\nShe had thought about the bottles. Though, she had come to realise that she had perhaps quickly tidied up when she was half asleep. She did have trouble staying asleep, and her tired mind was always keen and ready to play tricks on her - especially in the night. She regularly awoke to noises and shapes in the dark; and momentarily those shapes took the form of evil things with sinister intent - until her eyes adjusted and those nasty things turned out to be the shadow of a coat.\nAnd so, she quickly rationalised the three plastic bottles standing upright against the wall, as nothing more than a lapse in her memory, or perhaps a symptom of her tired mind.\nOne particular time of reminiscing for example, she had noticed a small spider on the floor. She noticed it so because she had become paranoid at the thought that a mouse had taken lodging in her house, and a small dark object warranted investigating.\nOn closer inspection, this small dark object turned out to be a small spider barely crawling along the floor. She had crouched down and felt the shadow of sadness touch her heart, for the little spider seemed to be injured or tired. Maya coaxed it gently onto her hand and carefully moved it to one of the webs in the corner of the room, hoping to give it a helping hand to its home where it could recuperate.\nSpiders do not smile, and nor do they speak. But for a very brief moment Maya thought she had heard a thank you, or a small smile at least.\nAnd so, if her brain could tell her that - it\u0026rsquo;s no wonder she forgot tidying up the bottles.\n✧ Maya woke once more in the middle of the night. This time, from the comfort and safety of her bed.\nShe curled up into a ball and pulled her sheets in tight.\nAs she willed herself to fall back to sleep, she could not help but notice that everything else was calmly dreaming and relaxing in their peaceful slumber. It was as though the entire world had allowed itself to stop and pause and to sit in the calmness and safety of the night together. The house purred with deep yet smooth breaths, and Maya could only imagine that nature itself, all the trees and plants alike and even the animals and creatures big and small, were also experiencing the unity and embrace of a good night\u0026rsquo;s sleep.\nThe feeling of isolation hit Maya, and a sense of unease and anxiety flooded her body.\nShe sighed and kicked her leg out in frustration.\nShe felt the heaviness and toll of her tiredness, and looked at the window to gauge just how much of the night had passed.\nNot a flicker of dawn.\nShe was alone in the darkness once more, and the awareness of her isolation and her despair filled her with even more unease. The blanket of despair was slowly weighing her down, as the dark cloud of panic and frustration started to fester and take over her body and mind.\nShe squeezed her eyes tightly, and her breathing intensified.\nAnd then, she heard the sound of a bottle falling over from downstairs. It was undeniable.\nHer eyes shot open once more and she focused.\nNow, rather than being aware of the soft, peaceful, slumber of her surroundings, and the isolation and emptiness of the silence around her; she could hear something downstairs.\nSomething was downstairs.\nSomething was moving.\nIts movements were not hurried or panicked; but slow, and deliberate.\nFootsteps, that were soft and slow. Whatever was downstairs, felt safe that it too was alone in the darkness.\n✧ Maya held her breath. Time slowed down and her senses were working overtime.\nThe soft patter of the footsteps downstairs were now amplified, and the only other sound caught in Maya’s world was the increasingly active thumping of her heart. The rolling beats echoed from the middle of her chest and were now creating bouncing ripples through her pyjama top.\nHer leg shot out of her covers, and both Maya and the spiders in her room were shocked.\nHer legs were leading her out of bed; and before she could question her rebellious limb, she found herself slowly opening her door.\nThe air in the house was still and quiet. Now outside the safety of her room, a soft hue of a bright full moon sat like glistening mist throughout, adding the perfect backlight for the slow and serene floating of dust and air.\nShe tip-toed carefully to the top of the stairs where she flinched at her shadow being painted onto the wall. She turned and grimaced at the window and moon that had seemingly found the perfect spot in the night’s sky to catch a watchful eye on the mystery at hand, and unwittingly blew Maya’s cover.\nThe pitter patter of the footsteps abruptly ended; and the silence was so loud that Maya dropped to the floor.\nShe slithered forward and cautiously peered round and down the stairs.\nThe moon, now feeling rather pleased with its role in the scene and craving further attention, had also shone a magical light through the lower floor of the house. Its light split through the front room like a shimmering blade made from the sky itself. A soft and beautiful glow dissolved outwards adding detail to the boxes and furniture.\nSo too, did it add detail to the owner of the tiny footsteps.\nIt stood there, cautiously looking out into the distance, and seemingly half sheltering behind the sofa. It was small; a foot tall at the most. Its big dark eyes flickered as the moonlight caught them, and Maya couldn’t help but notice what looked like raised eyebrows and a sad frown on its face.\nMaya thought it looked green, and it definitely had fur.\nShe contorted her body so as to slowly descend the stairs.\nIt had not seen her, but it was still looking out to the back of the house and scanning the area.\nAs Maya crept down the stairs, she could make out a small yellow flower tucked in the fur on its head.\nIt too seemed emboldened, and the tension in its little body seemed to disappear as it relaxed. It took a couple steps into the middle of the room, and pulled a small brush from its belt. Maya stopped and watched.\nIt made its way to the fireplace where it started to sweep the soot as best as it could with its brush.\nMaya saw that its belt also had a small acorn, and a leaf that resembled an apron.\nBefore Maya knew it, she had made her way to the bottom of the stairs and stood only a few feet away from the creature. She watched with dumbfounded curiosity as it was entranced by its sweeping and gentle scratching on the wooden floor.\n“Er - hello there” she said awkwardly, and waved politely in the direction of the mysterious little creature. She smiled widely, showing her teeth in a cheesy grin, and the cold room became all that bit warmer from the happiness and comfort that she exuded into the room.\n“I’m Maya it’s nice to-”\n“EEEEE!”\nThe little creature screeched, which caught Maya off guard. But, despite the panic, the cuteness of its screech only encouraged Maya more.\n“Sorry to surprise you-”\nThe little creature threw its little paws into the air and it darted off away from Maya.\n“EEEEEEE”\nIts screech and the drumming of its scurrying feet tapped away frantically at the hard floor as it fled.\nMaya took a step forward, but before she could react, the creature had disappeared. She raced to the lantern and lit it. The orange flicker now illuminated the room, and she scrambled in the direction of the small creature.\n✧ Maya spent the remainder of the night in a state of frantic searching and mystical curiosity. Amidst her sleep deprivation and thoughts of darkness, a small, green, furry thing had dropped into her life like a glistening emerald drop of magic; the drop of which was now adding that curious spark in Maya’s mind.\nShe had searched everywhere, and had not even taken a second to rest. She had jumped head first into the magic and embraced it without fear or doubt.\nShe did, however, find herself lamenting just how messy the house had become. It was no wonder, she thought, that she couldn’t find anything when it had become such a chaotic and disgusting mess.\nThe moon had eventually got bored of the lack of action and had drifted away from view. In its place, the sun peered over the horizon with a warm grin and warmth that Maya welcomed with open arms.\nThe spiders too, woke with a smile as the cold creaks and the hidden mysteries of the darkness of the night faded and made way for the low ember light shining into the house.\nAnd they woke to see Maya on her hands and knees, tracking what she thought to be the tiny footsteps of the small cleaning creature.\nAs she traced the footsteps imprinted into the dusty floor, she crept forward like a clumsy bloodhound being led by its super sensitive nose. Maya was in the zone, and she would unravel this mystery.\nBut, as she followed her senses and the small tracks, she lost the scent due to an unforeseen development; the floors at the back of the house were dustless.\nIt was with some degree of irony that she was now bemoaning a clean floor. She looked up at the sliding door at the rear of the house. It must have been the breeze from having the door open. She had regularly sat on the step of the backdoor looking out into the deep green forest behind the house.\nShe slid open the door and perched down onto her thinking spot and looked into the depths of the forest once more.\nIt was dark and overgrown - it was a complex and dense natural cave of trees and undergrowth that held a curious aura. It was telling the world that it was hiding treasures, and secrets, and answers, but that to enter would be a dangerous adventure. It was gloomy and heavy, but to Maya, it seemed inviting and full of possibilities.\n✧ The forest had captured Maya’s attention, and it spoke to her with an otherworldly, deep vibration that echoed and reverberated through her bones and to her core. The abyss was calling and its magic was calling to Maya.\nA quiet breeze flowed through the trees, and the leaves and plants rattled in unison; it was as though the forest was calling out to Maya and the emerald and green were beckoning her to the dark core.\nShe gazed into the unknown, willingly allowing her soul to slowly be pulled into the direction of the forest.\nA whistling gust blew through once more. It shot through the forest crashing against the house whipping Maya’s dark hair across her face into a dishevelled mess.\nShe snapped out of her trance and shook herself free.\nMaya turned and looked back into the house, shivering slightly. As the wind settled, the sunlight cut across the floor, and the layer of dust flickered and glimmered, highlighting the strange boundary where the dust ended and the clean wood floor began.\nBut this time, Maya spotted something else.\nThe draft was not only blowing through the open door. The dust near the skirting board was rolling and dancing like specks of sand shimmering across dunes.\nMaya walked back inside and knelt down beside the wall where the draft was escaping from the wall.\nHidden amongst the shadow of the skirting board was a loose panel.\nMaya traced her hand along the wooden wall and felt the dividing fracture in the skirting board. She hesitated and brushed her hand over the now visible panel.\nShe pulled back before reaching out once more.\nHer fingers were now trembling, and she hooked her fingernails into the gap and pulled.\nCreak.\nThe panel shook and the wood gave way, with a reluctant groan and a low pop. Once removed, Maya discovered what looked to be a small service cupboard, long forgotten.\nMaya crouched lower, pressing her cheek against the floorboard to peer into the darkness in the wall.\nIt took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but there, huddled in the corner of the dusty crawlspace, was a small, trembling ball of green fur.\n✧ The small creature was cuddled up on its side facing the wall. It had pulled the leaf over its body as a makeshift duvet.\nMaya’s heart dropped and her entire body filled with despair as she realised that the small green creature was desperately sobbing. Its small body rose and sank as it whimpered; its green fur shook with hopeless sobs.\nWarm tears glossed Maya’s dark eyes and she reached out instinctively to the weeping creature.\nAs she did so, the small creature jumped in shock and surprise, caught unawares that its moment of sadness was being witnessed by a stranger.\nMaya spoke no words, but she understood.\nThe creature backed away and Maya’s already sunken heart dropped another few inches as she saw that she had unknowingly cornered the small creature and intruded on its safety.\nMaya pulled away, and went to speak - but she hesitated.\nThe creature’s small body was shaking, and its large eyes opened widely, communicating the creature’s fear and shock at Maya’s presence.\nMaya spotted two plastic bottles lined up against the wall next to the creature’s small makeshift bed. She also saw the pile of neatly folded and pressed food wrappers. Maya’s heart emptied once more; and she was taken aback that it could empty and sick more than just moments previously - and to compound the failing of her heart, she felt the air leave her body for good measure. She felt disgusted at herself - these wrappers and bottles were the remnants of her messy neglect.\nMaya gulped and swallowed.\nHer lip began to twitch, and try as she may, it trembled and a solitary tear rolled down her flushed face.\nThe small creature flinched and tilted its head.\nMaya withdrew from the cubby hole and sat cross legged on the cold floor. She sat silently for a moment, and the creature inched forward out of curiosity.\nIt watched diligently as Maya walked away - only to return moments later, arms full with rubbish and wrappers.\nShe dropped them to the floor, and resumed her position sitting crossed legged in front of the creature’s room.\nShe carefully began straightening out the individual pieces of rubbish and arranging them into a neat pile. As she did, the small creature watched with a child-like curiosity. It was no longer trembling in fear, but was watching with a hesitant and cautious intrigue.\n“I feel ashamed,” said Maya. The small creature looked up with its large eyes as Maya spoke.\n“I’ve been a mess, and I’ve let this home turn into a tip.”\nMaya continued to fold and organise the litter, not looking up as she did so or when she spoke.\n“I guess you’ve been trying to clean for me, I don’t know. I’m ashamed that you had to do this for me. I’m sorry that I scared you.”\nMaya forced a small, but fake smile.\nTap, tap, tap.\nThe small creature had stepped out of the safety of its room and pulled a piece of a food wrapper in front of Maya. It used both of its soft hands to fold it before flattening it down; before grabbing another piece.\nMaya smiled.\n✧ The house saw a slow but deliberate invigoration in the days that followed Maya’s formal meeting with the small green creature.\nMaya had tried to be conscientious of her new roommate, although she was still perplexed and curious as to whether new was the right word. Was she the new roommate? Can you be a roommate to a small green furry creature that likes to clean and wears a leaf as an apron?\nWas she in fact just losing her mind?\nThe thoughts had bounced around her mind whilst trying to sleep, and yet as she lay for what seemed like hours in the cold and quiet darkness of night, she swore she could hear the small pitter patter of soft feet and the soft scratching of a tiny makeshift broom.\nThe spiders too, despite their small stature and somewhat quiet existence in the house, had started to be more responsible with their web laying. A good and secure web is an efficient and tidy web, afterall. Stray lines are unnecessary, and a waste of effort, so it was said.\nWinter had now definitively made its camp at the house. Whilst the snow had yet to fall, the nights were becoming sharper and the air itself now carried a cutting and abrasive freshness to it that had crossed the line of freshness and moved towards offensive.\nThe small creature had not exactly become a visible part of the household, but neither was it so keen to hide its existence - which filled Maya with a strange sense of warmth and joy. It lit a spark inside her that encouraged her to continue with her tidying.\nAs the house became more clean, so did the heaviness on her heart.\nShe was working her way through two half empty cardboard boxes and a pile of rubbish. It was laborious, and Maya hated tidying, but she could hear the small and soft pattering away from the other side of the room.\nFold, smooth, fold, smooth, drag.\nThe creature could work with a rhythmic efficiency, but my goodness, Maya was not going to be outdone by a creature barely one fifth her size, and she took a deep breath to reset her focus.\nMaya still felt a sense of shame about the state of the house, and she felt even more aware knowing that her lack of care was visible to others, even if those others were a small fluffy thing.\nMaya reached for the next item in the heap. Her fingers brushed against stiff card, rather than the shiny and flimsy plastic.\nShe pulled it free.\nIt was a train ticket. Orange and white, crumpled and stained with coffee but the date was still visible. It was three months ago, the day she left.\nThe machine-like tapping and folding of the creature stopped. It sensed the shift in the air immediately.\nMaya sat and stared at the small rectangular piece of card in her hand, and suddenly the joy and warmth filling the house erupted with a fierce and sharp cackle and dropped with a cold crushing thump. A haunting silence filled the house, and Maya shivered - not from the now icy air, but from the violent tremor that started from her heart and vibrated through her body.\nIn that moment, Maya was lost to the present, and she had been stolen and forcefully removed by a painful and harrowing memory - high pitched screech of brakes, the roar of a station announcer, the crushing weight of hundreds of bodies rushing on a busy train platform, and the unrelenting and disorientating shouts and murmurs of the crowds.\n“I wasn’t meant to come here”, she whispered. Her voice cracked, dry and brittle.\n“It happened so fast, I -”\nShe dropped the train ticket, and it fell to the ground like the last dead leaf of winter.\nShe grabbed hold of her body, grasping at herself with all her might. She pulled her knees to her chest, closing in on herself, burying her face into the fabric of her trousers.\n“I-”\n“I just couldn’t do it anymore.”\nShe began to sob. She could not hold in the grief and sadness any longer. As her tears began to fall, an implosion of despair and depression sucked through the cold and violence, and made way to a heavy and dense fog of desperation and hopelessness.\n“I couldn’t take it. I tried my best, but I just couldn’t do it. Every single day I tried. Every single day I fought and struggled, and I still couldn’t do it.”\nShe pressed her hands into her eyes.\n“I really did try my best. I told them all, I told them how hard it was, but no one ever believed me. And why should they? They all managed, so why should I be any different? Why would anyone believe that I was so pathetic and weak that I just couldn’t do the normal things, the day to day things that everyone found so easy.”\n“I tried so hard.”\nShe sobbed more.\n“I spent so long pretending to be someone else, that I had lost everything, every sense of who I was, of what I wanted - and boy did everyone ask me, what do you want to do Maya, what do you want Maya, what do you like Maya - I DON’T KNOW!”\nShe thumped the ground.\n“How can I know what I want when I spent my whole life pretending to be someone else! Argh!”\nMaya’s voice hitched and cracked as she screamed with a frustrated roar.\n“Every single time I let the mask slip, every single time I tried to be myself, someone always ended up getting hurt. I was pathetic, or wasn’t trying hard enough, or too miserable, or too weird - every single time I started being myself, I let everyone down.”\nHer breath hitched and she swallowed.\n“If I kept going, I’d end up dead. I had nothing left. I had killed my soul trying to fit in and I was left with nothing. And when I tried to give myself a chance, I was unlovable.”\n“Why - “\nShe paused, catching her breath.\n“Why wasn’t I ever enough?”\nShe grabbed her hair and squeezed her eyes tightly.\n“If my only value to people was when I was setting myself on fire to keep them warm, then what’s the point? I just wanted someone to see me - I just wanted someone to understand and see me; to trust me and love me, for me? I don’t blame them, I get it. How could someone get it or love me when I’m…me?”\n“That’s why I’m here,” Maya whispered. “I thought I could run away, and eventually I’d be forgotten.”\nMaya looked at the pile of trash.\n“If they even noticed I was gone. I’m just that person who was there - just an empty space reflecting what everyone wanted of me.”\nMaya felt a soft touch on her knee, and she froze.\nShe peeked through her fingers.\nThe small green creature stood in front of her with its big dark eyes, and in its other hand it held the train ticket. It laid it softly on the floor between them, and carefully folded it half.\nFold, smooth, pat.\nThen, the creature reached out. It leaned its furry head against Maya’s shin, resting its weight against her.\n✧ The days that followed did not bring a miracle cure for Maya. December continued to bleed and the coldness engulfed the house.\nEach day required more firewood, and each day Maya’s skill in tending to the fire grew.\nA routine formed in the dust, and Maya slowly sought to bring order to the chaos that had taken over the house.\nBut now, she was not alone.\nShe had shared the grief and overwhelming weight of the mess and disorder in the house with the small and mysterious little green creature, and together they shared the burden of giving it new life.\nMaya did not forget her desperation nor her sadness at the world. She grieved for herself, and she wondered whether she would ever feel whole. She had felt as though she was not made for this world, and perhaps she wasn’t; but she had realised that that was probably for the best.\nShe never wanted to be the reason someone felt as lonely and unloved as she had felt. She grieved the life she could have had if someone had seen and understood the pain she was living through and the suffering she was enduring to simply exist in such a shallow and confusing world.\nIt should have been so easy, she thought.\n✧ It was the 24th of December.\nThe fire was roaring with an impressive vigour, and the warmth and dazzling yellows and oranges painted the room with a magical display of enchanting glow.\nSnow had eventually covered the house with a soft and fluffy carpet of frozen dust - creating an idyllic and beautiful scene amongst the backdrop of the emerald forest.\nThe forest too seemed to hum with a cosy and mystical comfort. A strange and colourful breeze emanated from it as though its spirit was joining the house in the Christmas festivities.\nThe fire crackled and popped.\nThe house wasn’t spotless, but the front room was transformed and in the corner stood a small, crooked, half decorated tree.\nThe small creature sat on the sofa, its small yellow flower still tucked in its fur on its head. It smiled with genuine warmth and happiness as Maya entered the room with two mugs.\nOne was a small espresso cup, which she gave to the creature, who gratefully took and held it with both its furry little paws.\nThe other, a regular-sized mug, she held onto, and she carefully sat down onto the sofa.\nA beautiful wisp of hot air rose from the mugs. It rose and danced with delight, and it spiraled as it climbed higher and higher. The hot delicacy that it was born from was a rich, smooth, and tasty mug of hot chocolate.\nMaya looked at her companion and smiled.\n“Merry Christmas.”\n✧The End✧ Sign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this story, please consider signing up to the newsletter. I would love to be able to write more, and would love any feedback or ideas that you have. Being subscribed is the best way to make sure you never miss a new post.\nSubscribe ","date":"24 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/the-hearth-keeper/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"The Hearth Keeper","type":"posts"},{"content":"The soft ember lamp warmed a small corner of the office and caressed his otherwise hardened and tired face with a delicate but meaningful stroke that painted his shadow into existence against the cluttered wall to his side.\nHis head was barely above the waterline and the cold water had already reached his lungs. Each breath was rushed and panicked, and increasingly desperate.\nHe desired the fiery and deep touch of a sharp knife; the twisting torment and intensity of something other than reality.\nHow could it be that this life of his had turned out to be nothing more than a daily display of mimicry and acting to appease and to belong, and yet the result was the slow decay and torturous waste of standing in a sandstorm of judgment?\nHis curse of isolation was set against an accord of deep and painful feeling; of emotions to the extreme, both highs and lows - all of which burned when felt alongside the everlonging need for understanding and connection.\nPen touched paper in an attempt to give words and meaning to the torment and struggles, but oh, the irony if such words are never read?\nTo stand at the horizon point, drawn in by invisible threads that transcend all rhyme and reason, to look and see and feel the inevitability of the truest surrender in the universe that would result in such a perfect and serene implosion to which there would be no return - and knowing that such joining would forever be out of reach.\nThe pen did not move.\nHis wildest and deepest insecurities would continuously repeat and plague him; a self fulfilling prophecy in the truest sense.\nTo find oneself is the aim which we set ourselves, and yet, to reach the answer and to discover that one’s incompatibility is not just a curse for oneself but also the cause of grief and hurt to all of those who would look to love is a cruel irony and a bitter and difficult truth to hold onto.\nOn one hand, the option to set fire to all that you are to give warmth to those around you in the attempt for connection - to give value for others, to prove your worth by sacrificing everything, to know that such a path leads to slow and painful death, agony and silent suffering on a daily basis.\nThe other is the acceptance of oneself and the acceptance of the pathetic, the weak, the incompatible, the incapable, the unlovable. Such a path is isolation, a world without connection; it is a path of honesty, of shunning the normal and the expected in the name of authenticity and sanity.\nAuthor\u0026rsquo;s Note: This is a heavy piece. I find it important and interesting to explore the darker moments whilst also making the most of the cosy sanctuary of other posts.\n","date":"22 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/despair/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Despair","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"22 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/despair/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Despair","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"22 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/sadness/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Sadness","type":"tags"},{"content":"I had the pleasure of visiting Japan in May of 2025.\nIt was a magical country that has certainly left its mark on me.\nI\u0026rsquo;m happy to share a collated album of some of the photos that I took on the trip that took me from Tokyo, to Fujikawaguchiko, to Kyoto, and then to Hiroshima, before returning back to Tokyo for a 15 hour flight home.\njapan_2025/Arashiyama.jpg japan_2025/Arashiyama 2.jpg japan_2025/Fushimi Inari Taisha 1.jpg japan_2025/Fushimi Inari Taisha 2.jpg japan_2025/Fushimi Inari Taisha 3.jpg japan_2025/Fushimi Inari Taisha 4.jpg japan_2025/Fushimi Inari Taisha 5.jpg japan_2025/Fushimi Inari Taisha 6.jpg japan_2025/Hiroshima.jpg japan_2025/Itsukushima.jpg japan_2025/Itsukushima 2.jpg japan_2025/Itsukushima Jinja 1.jpg japan_2025/Itsukushima Jinja 2.jpg japan_2025/Itsukushima Jinja 3.jpg japan_2025/Itsukushima Jinja 4.jpg japan_2025/Kiyomizu-dera 1.jpg japan_2025/Kiyomizu-dera 2.jpg japan_2025/Kōdaiji Temple .jpg japan_2025/Kōdaiji Temple Bamboo Forest.jpg japan_2025/Koyasu-no-to Pagoda.jpg japan_2025/Kyoto.jpg japan_2025/Kyoto Shrine.jpg japan_2025/Mt Fuji.jpg japan_2025/Mt Fuji - Lakes.jpg japan_2025/Mt Fuji lakeside.jpg japan_2025/Nara Deer Park - another deer.jpg japan_2025/Nara Deer Park - Deer.jpg japan_2025/Nara Park deer.jpg japan_2025/Shibuya.jpg japan_2025/Shibuya Crossing.JPG japan_2025/Steps at Lake Kawaguchi.jpg japan_2025/Tado-ji Deer.jpg japan_2025/Tōdai-ji.jpg japan_2025/Todai-ji Namdaimon (Grand South Gate).jpg All photographs © 2025 Maegenki. Do not use without permission.\n","date":"21 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/japan-2025/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Japan 2025","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"21 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/photography/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"Photography","type":"categories"},{"content":"","date":"21 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/photography/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Photography","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"21 December 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/travelling/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Travelling","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"21 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/critique/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Critique","type":"tags"},{"content":"I try my best to write with a certain flow and with a certain lyrical-ness, with the hope that each word and phrase and sentence dances with rhythm and with the hope that it paints the same pictures of emotion and comfort that I\u0026rsquo;m feeling when I am writing.\nThis works better when I am writing about deep, heavy thoughts, where ordinarily the words would sink and stick to the sides like mud. I also like the idea of story telling that is lyrical and vivid - to paint with magic and feelings rather than with logic and structure.\nI begin this reflection with that admission because despite the themes I write about, I do actively try to add a certain beauty to it, and sometimes when talking about such dark themes the only way to not lose yourself is to look at the ideas with an almost poetic prose. And I say this now, because the purpose of this reflection, is very much not to aim for that prose but to cut straight to the point.\nAnd that\u0026rsquo;s not to say that I won\u0026rsquo;t use some colour here - I will still be writing about emotion, and to write about emotion is to put words and letters to feelings that cannot be adequately defined by words alone.\nI discovered a truth a few weeks ago that changed the course of my writing as well as my outlook and direction of and in life. I have never shied away from not giving solutions, and I don\u0026rsquo;t propose to explain more; beyond explaining that I decided not to explain it. This discovery coincided with reconnecting with a part of myself that I had not allowed to exist - whether through fear or social conditioning. Even times when I had thought I was truly opening myself to the world and to the feelings that come with it, parts of me and my conditioning were getting in the way - preventing that final release or leap of faith.\nPushing beyond that conditioning I found myself with a sense of direction, and a pull, towards a feeling - a feeling of warmth and serenity, of the feeling of home. And when I speak of that feeling of home, I don\u0026rsquo;t mean it in the feeling of being at your childhood home (or certainly it\u0026rsquo;s not the feeling I experienced in my childhood home), but rather the feeling of home one would write poetically about; of complete acceptance and grounding, of relaxing into a sofa, of true understanding, of bliss and joy.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s a feeling that I started moving towards - and where it wasn\u0026rsquo;t to be found, I actively did not like.\nThe problem of clarity is the ability to see and think beyond, and so despite moving towards this feeling of home - as though a beacon on the horizon; invariably I find myself overcome with thoughts and feelings of everything else. I say everything, because everything is what I mean. It\u0026rsquo;s not my lazy writing, but a sincere description of my mind being overcome by everything.\nAnd so, cutting beyond the words and the imagery, I find myself disillusioned with people.\nI can see the world for what it is and the systems that are designed to entrap and work us. Whilst once I would get caught up by the political arguments and dogma, I can see the systems that are put in place over the course of human history; they rise and fall, but the theory remains - to conquer and control, and to take man\u0026rsquo;s obsession with greed and power to new uncomfortable heights with each iteration of the system.\nI acknowledge the issue and the truth that I can see is that when faced with the choice of how to play the system, the answer is to stand up and play somewhere else. To fight a closed and rigged system from within in to take part in and play with the system; irrespective of good intentions, you are designed to fail. You are expected to choose between investing your money in banks and financial systems in return for an above inflation return - and if not the value of your money diminishes without you do anything; the price you pay is giving the same institutions and companies leverage to continue ravishing and exploiting.\nI see and understand this. Even if one system failed, another would take it\u0026rsquo;s place. The selfishness of mankind is unrivaled, and you cannot defeat evil or greed without sinking to the same depths, and it is often here where bad actors are allowed to thrive - those with morals cannot allow themselves to act in such a way that they become immoral, even if the outcome is beneficial to all. And that, again, is the design of the system - it ensures that those people who can and are willing to yield to moral judgment are never held accountable except through monumental revolution.\nI get this.\nWhat I increasingly become disillusioned with, is actions of those to allow such systems and and bad actors to thrive, despite knowing what is happening.\nIt is easy to look at people who should know better and to explain away their actions and ignorance with a lack of intelligence. It\u0026rsquo;s the easy option; and the first stumbling block. Anyone on the receiving end of such a critique instantly finds it insulting or demeaning or that it simplifies problems. And whilst it may be the case to a degree, explaining people in such a way gives them the benefit of doubt, that perhaps they don\u0026rsquo;t deserve.\nIt is convenient for people to not understand, or to push away explanations with the feign of discontentment or a general lack of care. When someone is frustrated and argues someone lacks the intelligence, it suggests that they simply do not know better; when the truth is, that they either do, or they should do. People are capable, and offering people an \u0026ldquo;out\u0026rdquo; through lack of intelligence is an act of empathy and naivety - it is put out there with the hope that mankind is ignorant, not through their own choosing, but because that\u0026rsquo;s just the way they are.\nThe fact is, people do know better, and rather, it is a lack of care and an excess of self-interest and laziness. The systems in place will tell us that people act in self-interest as a part of self-preservation; that they act and vote out of fear and disillusionment. Their callous lack of care for others is not a reflection of them or their nature, but rather, an acting out and understandable reaction to their own bad fortune and ill treatment at the hand of the world.\nThese excuses and reasons for not calling out the disillusioned who act with such incredulous selfishness actively pave the way for further decline and a further descent to division and torment - and that is by design as the only winners from such chaos are those at the very top looking down.\nWillful ignorance or willful participation because of selfish means is worse than simple ignorance, and those disillusioned or affected by the system who seek to share misery and misfortune to others despite being victims themselves, make them worse than simple conspirators.\nRefusal to tell the truth or to see the problems for what they are is to be complicit in the lies that so many people are comfortable to sit with. The systems that constantly confine us are one thing, but my fear is that the real epidemic is that far too many people are happy to partake and are happy to revel in the decline of liberties and freedoms enjoyed by themselves and others through pure callousness.\nThings are designed in such way that calling out these people is seen as an attack, and so the downward spiral will continue indefinitely until the total collapse and mutual destruction of everyone involved, but those at the very top. This descent to pure adulterated ambivalence and worse yet, active hatred and deliberate acts of making life worse for others, is a snowball that we seem unwilling or unable to call out - and the systems cannot be the true dilemma when it is the proactive and willful neglect of individuals involved or spread the hate and animosity.\nOf course, there are reasons for why people act in their own self interests, and invariably there are reasons why people act to their own detriment. Of course, a sympathetic answer can be given and historians can look back and point to the why\u0026rsquo;s and how\u0026rsquo;s that people reject facts and goodness for spite; but at what point are we allowed to draw a line and hold people responsible?\nThe answer, it seems, is either when it\u0026rsquo;s too late or not at all.\nI said at the beginning that I do not shy away from not presenting solutions; and I don\u0026rsquo;t have one now. I am at peace with the fact that I do not need to be the one to find a solution. My truth is that I simply do not want to play; and so I will reject the system for what it is.\nIt is not naivety to rely on hope that people have enough goodness in their hearts that things will change - that is the soft human nature that the world needs. My problem is that I am disillusioned as to whether the softness of those people who can see the destructive path and selfishness of those engaging in the system, is enough to stop the rot.\nI wonder whether the appropriate action is to be more honest with those who are willfully complicit and refuse to help themselves. We cannot wait for the world to wake up, when they are in fact alive and contributing to the fire themselves. If the system is designed to exploit and the masses are content to be exploited, then our duty is to not save them, but to withdraw ourselves from the game entirely.\nI have my direction, and I know the feeling that I need to pursue. I know that I am not content to engage with the system and play the same games that only empower a few.\n","date":"21 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/disillusion/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Disillusion","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"21 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/disillusion/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Disillusion","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"21 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/responsibility/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Responsibility","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"21 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/society/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Society","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"19 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/productivity/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Productivity","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"19 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/purpose/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Purpose","type":"tags"},{"content":"Joji sat staring into the fire.\nThe storm outside was still attacking the mountain and unleashing all of its chaos and energy; it was angry and it wanted all of the land to feel its rage and terror.\nIts winds were rolling down the jagged edges of the rock cliffs, and smashing into the side of the small wooden cottage overlooking the town of Ascia, somewhere in the darkness below. The storm whistled and roared, and the needles of rain had grown to be ferocious strikes of liquid hammers; and yet the old hermit\u0026rsquo;s home stood strong.\nDespite the battle outside, Joji was entranced by the fire and its ember glow. He was hypnotised.\nBut it was not the soft humming of the ember flames, nor the spitting and cracking of the dried wood, but it was the image and memory of the purple stone from the hilt of the sword.\nHe could see it as though it were there before him; and it was talking to him - not in words but in feelings, it was whispering deep emotions that took hold of Joji that moved him to his core; as though trying to pierce his soul. He felt compelled to look closer and closer, as though falling into a dream.\nIt was then that the old hermit shouted in with sudden despair, and Joji was pulled from the depths of the fire and back into himself.\nJoji turned quickly and saw the old man dancing and waving his wooden ladle in the air; jostling and jiving, his apron rustling as the hermit exclaimed in shock! Joji caught glimpse of a pink haze bouncing at the hermit\u0026rsquo;s feet, and this haze darted away, bouncing off the wall and up into the air. Before Joji could even make sense of the havoc before him, a small pink character bowed before him with a squeak.\nThe old hermit stood forward and ran his hand through his grey beard, unknowingly painting it with a dollop of the stew he had been preparing.\n\u0026ldquo;Hmm well isn\u0026rsquo;t this interesting.\u0026rdquo; spoke the old man.\n\u0026ldquo;This night sees another interesting turn I see!\u0026rdquo;\nThe pink character peered at the old hermit, and it looked to Joji as though it rolled its eyes as it did. It had large ears and large dark eyes, and it\u0026rsquo;s pink fur fluttered gently in the warmth of the fire.\n\u0026ldquo;This, mischievous little fellow is a pipki.\u0026rdquo; declared the hermit.\n\u0026ldquo;A pipki?\u0026rdquo; asked Joji, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;ve never seen a pipki\u0026hellip; is it some sort of rabbit?\u0026rdquo;\nThe pipki lowered its eyes in displeasure, Joji had clearly insulted him, but the hermit seemed amused and his bellowing laugh filled the room once again.\n\u0026ldquo;Hohohohoho! Not quite young Joji! Pipkis are ancient creatures, spirits if you will! Of course, with the way of the world now few ever hear of spirits, let alone see one or get picked by one.\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;Picked by one?\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;Why yes!\u0026rdquo; replied the hermit with a gleeful smile \u0026ldquo;it looks as though this little pipki has decided you are a fit companion for it.\u0026rdquo;\nThe pipki, clearly feeling its sense of duty, stomped one of its tiny little paws onto the wooden floor, and bowed once more.\n\u0026ldquo;But I don\u0026rsquo;t want a companion.\u0026rdquo; said Joji, \u0026ldquo;especially not a pink little rabbit-\u0026rdquo;\nThe pipki, clearly displeased at either Joji\u0026rsquo;s reluctance or comparison to a rabbit, hopped into the air and with a cute, yet with equally terrifying grace, slapped Joji on the forehead.\n\u0026ldquo;Ow!\u0026rdquo;\nThe hermit\u0026rsquo;s laugh erupted into the room, this time with added vigour!\n\u0026ldquo;Oh Joji, I haven\u0026rsquo;t laughed like that for years! Pipkis were here long before humans, some say they were born from the first blossoms of the Spring Star, although I suspect that little thing doesn\u0026rsquo;t get talked about either! A pipki chooses one person, and, despite how mischievous and uppity they are, it is a great honour to be chosen.\u0026rdquo;\nThe old hermit sat beside the pipki and Joji.\n\u0026ldquo;Joji I can sense your unease.\u0026rdquo;\nJoji looked at the old man, and to the pipki.\nHis soul felt settled, and yet more alive than he could ever remember.\n","date":"19 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/the-old-hermit-part-2/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"The Old Hermit Part 2","type":"posts"},{"content":"Joji\u0026rsquo;s ankle twisted as it slipped on the wet stones, and the wind slapped him for good measure.\nBefore the thought of panic could even enter his mind, a great tree stepped forward from the darkness and blocked his stumble. The force knocked the air from his lungs, but he was grateful that it was a strong collision with a tree, rather than a sharp fall down the cliff\u0026rsquo;s edge.\nThe wind battered and roared furiously down from the mountain summit, and Joji lamented his stupidity at exploring into the darkness of the night: he had been aware of the storm clouds creeping over the horizon\u0026rsquo;s edge into the valley, but against the backdrop of the abyss in the sky, he had not appreciated the anger of the skies and the chaos that had been brewing.\nLightning illuminated the sky, and Joji caught sight of the house in the distance. The skies erupted with a violent eruption as thunder echoed through the valley.\nJoji stepped forward and looked down to where he thought the town would be; rather than the soft hum of torches amidst the sides of the valley, he saw nothing but assault of water daggers from the sky - and the faint glow to his right of the house.\nHe leant forward, pushing back against the gusts ushering him towards a more speedy descent from the mountain.\nThe old hermit\u0026rsquo;s house. Joji knew where he was.\nHe looked again to where he pictured the town should be, it couldn\u0026rsquo;t be too far away, surely?\nA gust of wind flew down from behind him, and whipped at viciously as though a hand from the mountain spirits themselves - clawing at Joji to hold him in place.\nPressing forward down the mountain path may just be a little stupid, but what could he expect from the old hermit?\nAnother crack of lightning illuminated the sky and gave light and life to the jets of water falling around Joji.\nHe could not risk going further.\nJoji thumped the door with his numb hands and took a step back. He looked once more down the valley, contemplating one final time whether to chance it.\nThe door swung open with the same crash as the thunder! A tall man filled the space where the door had been, his features blackened by the shadows and the light from inside the house emanated around him, dousing him in a mystical orange glow; as though he was stepping forth from the sun itself!\nJust as suddenly as he appeared, he bent down to Joji\u0026rsquo;s eye level; and his large bushy grey beard introduced itself, as well as the worn out features of the man\u0026rsquo;s face; worn out, but softened, a happy but hardened face - a contradiction of sorts.\nA smile cracked on the old man\u0026rsquo;s face.\n\u0026ldquo;A bit late for a stroll lad?\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;Er, yes\u0026rdquo; Joji replied. \u0026ldquo;I was exploring up the mountain, and well, the storm and night, and I think my mother would kill me if I tried to-\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;Yes, yes, of course\u0026rdquo;. The old man peered out into the night. \u0026ldquo;The skies are angry tonight! Come in, come in!\u0026rdquo;.\n\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\nJoji had been sitting in front of the fire for some time. It\u0026rsquo;s warmth and glow had been intoxicating having felt the bitterness of the storm outside. His face felt the stroking of the fire and he could feel his skin glow and radiate as it absorbed the heat.\nAs he took another bite of the bread that the old hermit had given him, he couldn\u0026rsquo;t help but think of the stories about the old man. He had lived high on the mountain for years; his essentials were delivered to him, and he never came down into the valley for any festival or meeting.\nJoji examined the man. He was old, of that he was sure; but as he sat crossed legged on the floor with his eyes closed - he certainly didn\u0026rsquo;t seem to be the old angry hermit that everyone had talked about. In fact, he exuded a certain lightness, something about him set Joji at ease.\n\u0026ldquo;Exploring huh?\u0026rdquo; queried the man, eyes still closed.\nJoji was taken aback at his own thoughts being interrupted by the hermit\u0026rsquo;s question.\n\u0026ldquo;Yes, although,\u0026rdquo; Joji paused, \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not quite sure what for.\u0026rdquo;\nThe old man laughed. His deep laughter filled the small room with a joyful echo and a bellowing melody.\n\u0026ldquo;Does your exploration need a purpose?\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;Of course it does\u0026rdquo; snapped Joji. \u0026ldquo;How can I be a productive member of the town if I\u0026rsquo;m going off playing?\u0026rdquo;\nThe silence flooded the room and sucked up the melodic laugh from the old man from moments before.\nThe hermit stroked his beard.\n\u0026ldquo;A productive member of the town\u0026hellip;\u0026rdquo;\nJoji felt a knot in his stomach, perhaps he had gone too far to rebuke the old man. Maybe he\u0026rsquo;d have to make the journey down the valley afterall.\n\u0026ldquo;Tell me young Joji\u0026hellip;\u0026rdquo;\nJoji prepared himself for the grilling.\n\u0026ldquo;Am I a productive member of the town?\u0026rdquo; questioned the old man.\n\u0026ldquo;Er -\u0026rdquo; began Joji, \u0026ldquo;I mean, I guess, that\u0026hellip; well, no.\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;I see! And is that a bad thing?\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s our duty to be a productive-\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;Yes yes, it\u0026rsquo;s our duty to be a productive member of Ascia - I have heard that same phrase drilled into townsfolk for the last 60 years, and it annoys me as much now as it did when I was your age.\u0026rdquo;\nThe hermit stood and turned.\n\u0026ldquo;Come, follow me.\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\u0026lt;\u0026gt;\nJoji followed the man through the locked door, and down into the darkness of the stairs. The only light came from the small candle that the hermit was carrying. As they descended the steps, Joji realised that they must have been going into the mountain. Some fifty steps down, the man passed the candle to Joji, and took a key from the chain around his neck - and unlocked the door.\nThe door swung open and the man bent down to light something. With a little persuasion, the flame graciously danced into its new home - and with a beautiful display of grace and agility, the flame danced off into the distance, jumping from one torch to another - it seemed to delight in its performance and pleased to have an audience; it hopped and skipped, and soon the entire cave was lit with dozens of torches.\nJoji\u0026rsquo;s eyes widened as the cave came to life. His soul felt touched by a flow of magic, and it was suddenly feeling alive, and curious at everything that was laid out and living in the cave.\nThere were lines of books, swords, jewels of every hue and colour imaginable, and drawings everywhere.\nJoji felt entranced and found himself flowing unconsciously around the cave, looking more closely at the artifacts and treasures hidden in the mountain.\nHe felt alive.\nHe stopped and stared longingly at the most perfect sword he had ever seen. The townsguards carried iron blades with plain hilts and handles, but this\u0026hellip; this was something different entirely.\nThe blade shone and glistened as though it was on fire. The hilt was a work of art. A purple stone was set against a black guard etched with strange symbols. The stone itself seemed alive, as though it contained secrets both beautiful and terrible.\n\u0026ldquo;Young Joji\u0026rdquo; the man said placing his hand on the boy\u0026rsquo;s shoulder. \u0026ldquo;It is true that I am not a productive member of the town.\u0026rdquo;\nHe looked around the cavern himself, and his eyes lit up as though greeting a long lost friend.\n\u0026ldquo;This simple life of mine has been led not for purpose or productivity. At least not in the way Ascia would see it.\u0026rdquo;\nThe hermit sighed.\n\u0026ldquo;I know too well the stories of the town folks and what they say of me. What a strange loner I am, who contributes nothing! A traitor to Ascia! Ho-ho-ho!\u0026rdquo; his melodic laugh bellowed once more.\n\u0026ldquo;Perhaps I am, and perhaps they are right,\u0026rdquo; he continued. \u0026ldquo;It is true that I turned my back on the idol pursuits of conquering and productivity, and perhaps my punishment is to bear their idiocy!\u0026rdquo;\nHe turned sharply to Joji.\n\u0026ldquo;But Joji - I saw the glint in your eye when you talked about exploring! Exploring has no purpose but to explore! There is magic all around us and it\u0026rsquo;s freeing! Don\u0026rsquo;t let those boring old fools trap you with their thinking!\u0026rdquo;\nHe laughed once more, this time even harder.\n\u0026ldquo;Although I guess I am the old fool preaching now! Hohohohoho!\u0026rdquo;\n\u0026ldquo;Joji - life is magical; it wants to be lived, not to be tamed and controlled! Now, how about we throw out that crusty bread in your pocket and we enjoy something tastier? And I can tell you all about that sword you seem drawn to!\u0026rdquo;\n","date":"16 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/the-old-hermit/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"The Old Hermit","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"10 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/authors/","section":"Authors","summary":"","title":"Authors","type":"authors"},{"content":"","date":"10 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/conflict/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Conflict","type":"tags"},{"content":"The grey was fading to black as the world was growing tired, and the large full moon was now gleefully centre stage and reveling in its spotlight.\nHe walked into the front room and exhaled with a deep purposeful sigh.\nHis mind was racing with questions left unanswered, and perhaps, as he often thought might be the case, his mind was not even aware of what it was trying to solve. Whatever the question, and whatever the answer, his mind pondered and queried and swirled and whirred to such an extent that he was sure that it would implode in an act of defiance.\nAnd despite the exhaustion, he could not help but feel that something was there, so close to him, that he could feel its presence. It felt as though it was pulling at him from a different dimension, its hand thrust through an unseen barrier and screaming for help - urging him to meet it.\nBut, just as his thoughts spun and rose and hurried in excitement, rising and rising as it so often did bouncing off of every word and rhythm, spoken in his mind or intuitively felt\u0026hellip; so too did kettle screech in delight at fulfilling its duty.\nThe water flowed harmoniously into the cup as though a smooth and pure essence of life itself condensed to one single strand, having perfected its art after thousands of years. As the cup sat still the magic within began to take shape.\nThe dried leaves breathed into life and slowly started to unfurl in the warm embers of the hot water; and as they began to blossom so too did the ribbons of colour begin to bleed, staining the water with the ghost of its flavour. Thin wisps of steam rose from the potion and they danced and spiraled as they ascended into the cold air of the small kitchen.\nHis pale-green creation lay like an emerald on the counter-top, and it shone and glistened as the light refracted through its misty layers, and he moved it to the front room.\nHe sat it down as it left its mark on his now red and very warm hands.\nHe looked to the wooden ceiling and tried with all his might to see through it, to gaze through the borders of the living world. He looked with all his might, but the imagined abyss stared back with not so much as a whisper.\nThe most unsettling thought was that he had already found the answer.\nSomething had been sitting heavy on his soul and had been adding to his anxiety. It has been there, at the very edge of his vision; a small and almost silent whisper, a slight breeze that calls to attention the hairs on his arm but that does not pierce the skin.\nWhat scared him the most was the chains that had bound him and kept him shackled and bound, were of his own making. Whether it be the fear of the truth or the conditioning of society, he had perhaps had the key the whole time.\nThe closer his mind got to the answer, the more it tried to fight him, to hide something from him.\nHe let out another sigh.\nHis thoughts were interrupted this time by the soft patter of the rain. The rhythmic tapping brought him from out of his head and his soul felt the warm hum of comfort.\nHe turned off the light and lit the candle on the table beside him. As he blew cold air through his pressed lips into his cup, he allowed himself to sink deeper into the sofa.\nThe tender flame now brought a dark orange hue to the room, and the shadows appeared and joined him in his blissful safety. They bobbed and danced to the flickering of the candle fire, and he tasted the beauty and flavour of his green tea.\nPerhaps the quandaries of the soul can wait until tomorrow.\n","date":"10 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/ghost-of-its-flavour/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Ghost of its Flavour","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"10 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/peace/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Peace","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"10 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/authors/sekko/","section":"Authors","summary":"","title":"Sekko","type":"authors"},{"content":"","date":"2 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/balance/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Balance","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/power/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Power","type":"tags"},{"content":"He fell to one knee.\nHis hand grasped at the ashy soil beneath him as his body relented; the chaotic, beautiful, and all-consuming power that once filled his veins and held him higher than all others, was now diminished, leaving him but a near empty vessel, devoid of fire and flame.\nHis eyes flickered as the few remaining sparks of cosmic energy that flowed through him sought an escape. His body, once fueled by the supernova within, had now betrayed him; and so to his mind and soul was also following suit. Devoid of the driving force that guided his now seemingly pointless pursuit, he found himself lost in the void - the energy and purpose that had given direction and endeavour had been swallowed.\nThere was now a solemn and haunting acceptance; an inevitability, the empty and lonely darkness that was now before him. Without the warmth and light of the star within him, his soul was now set on an endless course in the subzero wastelands of the abyss.\nHe looked up, aghast at his stupidity and nativity. He has been used, his passion and thirst for more has been stolen from him, and he suddenly felt the silent grip of death take hold - in his waking consciousness he felt it \u0026ndash; perhaps this was all that he ever was?\nPerhaps the illusion of freedom was but a mere fleeting ray of false hope, perhaps he was always nothing but an empty vessel destined for the cold expanses of nothingness once he was no longer of any use?\nSmoke now blackened his view, and the soot and grey decay was entering his airways. The fire that once drove him forward was now burning the ground and trees around him.\nIt was then that he saw the delicate dance of a small leaf swirl through the air upon a light gust of wind. It pirouetted, it raised and fell, and it flowed as if entranced and commanded by beautiful conductor.\nBehind it and off to the distance, a flicker of light peered through the trees and filled the hazy air with a soft glow as though the heavens themselves has opened and allowed pure life itself to grace the world.\nIt was at this sight that his body was reminded of her presence.\nHis life had been a never ending cycle of pushing for more, striving for the next thing; never being satisfied or content - but with her, her essence, her calming warmth; she was perfection in human form, there was no question of her being better or being more, she just was and that was was everything and more.\nShe felt like home in ways that home should feel and yet never quite could; he did not reside in fairy tales or stories, but this sensation was but a garden of bliss and serenity - a calmness and acceptance of otherworldly beauty and warmth.\nThe thoughts danced through his mind as if musical notes, flowing from one to the other. His body was filled with a warmth and tranquility that did not fill him with unyielding strength, but that lifted his ailments and worries - it purified the darkness and cultivated an innocence that perhaps he had never deserved and truly could not recall being blessed by.\nWas this the peace and innocence that he had forsaken on his path of fire?\nIn that of zen-like tranquility she reminded him of the gentle innocence and love that he had ran away for such a long time. As his soul settled and quietly hummed to the music, he reflected on this feeling of true security and understanding.\nThis feeling, he thought, was the garden worth protecting.\nHis fire had burned him and taken so much, all in the name of someone else - but this feeling, this peace, was the reason to fight.\nHe took a deep breath and stood tall.\n","date":"2 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/the-garden-from-the-ash/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"The Garden From the Ash","type":"posts"},{"content":"My energy is spent.\nI have been worn down to the point of exhaustion and silent suffering. It is not only my body that is yearning for relief, but my mind and soul too have been depleted; and they now plead with me for a respite.\nWhat can I tell them? This depletion is nothing but an inevitability; it is a function of the world that we inhabit. Functioning within the confines of a system that seeks to control and restrict, is tiring; to not be affected would indicate an ignorance of the realities of life, or perhaps it would prove such an ascendance beyond my current means - of which seems unfathomable to me.\nThis situation is programmed into our world: creativity, freedom, individuality, passion, expression; on the surface these are ideals that modern societies spout as founding principles and yet they are mere forms of entrapment; mere illusions designed to keep us shackled and bound to those with the means to exploit our efforts and attention.\nThis disease of visceral and damning tiredness is not a personal failing, but of systemic design. The system needs exhaustion, it needs compliance and passiveness. It relies on those with the means to shine a light on the failings of the world to be too tired to fight; too tired to embrace the fire within. These people have the power and means to start a chain reaction of passion and empathy that would cause a cataclysmic breaking of chains and awakening of colour and beauty to an otherwise bleak and damning world.\nI have felt the duality within me tearing apart my mind; thoughts and questions echo at all times, and yet the weaving frequencies vibrate with such vigour and menace that I am unable to ascertain the questions being asked, let alone the answers to those deep quandaries which my mind have decided to push to my consciousness. It is perhaps with these torrent of consciousness whereby I have become aware of something previously hidden from me.\nThe supernova in my soul is yearning for a release - the spark is ready to ignite the fires of change and chaos and revolution and passion. It is primed by the injustice that we see all around us; and yet society is designed in such a way that we feel chained to the walls, unable to unleash that cosmic flow into the world. This drive and passion that we wish to share with the world, the colours and beauty and creativity, is stuck and bottled up within us as are belittled or talked down due to our unwillingness to comply and to obey. What little fire we are able to direct is hijacked and stolen, forced to be used for corporate greed or simple survival. We are allowed to live if only to taste the potential of freedom; we are given just enough to keep us in perpetual hope and everlasting yearning.\nRather being allowed to burn as cosmic revelations we are forced to operate as mere cinders, and we are given just enough warmth to keep yearning for more.\nWith this manipulation of our desires, there is a part of our souls that almost always get ignored. It is a part of myself that I neglect and which comes at great cost to me.\nMy childhood wonder, my peace, my innocence, my pure-being, has been kept hidden from myself and the world - and it is a world that has been left to wither and die. This is the part of me that truly feels like me. It is part of my soul that is a melodic piano song, each key note is a joy and to behold; it is my essence, the pureness that the outside world has yet to touch and corrupt. It is love, and acceptance, and it is light; it is pure.\nIt is the rarest sensation and feeling that I have ever had the privilege of experiencing, and one that is very rarely ever felt.\nIt is seeing someone in their totality and seeing them as a ray of perfection and pure bliss. It is being seen back and feeling understood. It\u0026rsquo;s the truest feeling of being home in someone\u0026rsquo;s presence. This comfort is enlightening; all the cares in the world drift away and all the worries and fears fade to unyielding contentment and stillness.\nSuch is the rarity of this feeling, that often when the fire in the soul diminishes, I am left with the feeling of numbness. As part of my desire to transform the chaos in me I invariably forget to care for that which is the foundation of everything.\nAnd this is what the world, the grey machine, does so well to kill us so slowly. It tell us we either have to use our driving emotions or to sit in our peace and leave the world alone.\nIf we choose our fire, we are hijacked; our cosmic life force is stolen into hijacked productivity or contributions to economies. Our creativity and imaginations are used to fuel greed.\nIf we choose our peace, our zen like calm, our childlike innocence and pure being; we are mocked. We are called lazy, unproductive, naive. We are left feeling detached; the wheels of industry continue to spin and to plunder in our absence. We see society\u0026rsquo;s grasp on this to the full extent with self-help gurus and experts; the result of their wisdom is to lock yourself away and to ignore the world.\nWe are forced to be either productive, but soulless workers, or a peaceful but powerless dreamer. We are never allowed to do both - and the only winners are those with vested interest in keeping society locked into manipulation, greed, and control.\nI have too often felt myself fighting myself at this apparent conflict. My desire to effect greater change runs on limited fuel when my energy is needed to survive. I am left with a taste of this freedom and the dream of bringing about change, and passion, and true emotional awakening. And yet, when my driving emotions are depleted, my peace is hidden from me. The rare times that I find myself back seeing my true-self, I feel guilty; I feel that my peace is selfish and insignificant. This feeling of home seems so far away; the fleeting appearances of this innocence often feel more like far away dreams.\nAnd so this fight, this conflict in my mind, so often results in an internal battle whereby both sides lose and I end paying the price; and society sits back from afar as I tear myself apart and it laughs.\nThe truth must be that I need to reframe both the fire and the peace in me, not as opposite sides of a blade, but two parts of my soul that together can bring about greater change and contentment both in myself and the world. The true act of rebellion, the true ascendance, is to reject the choice of fire and peace; it is harness both. For our peace is not the absence of fire; it is the home and foundation on which it makes everything worth fighting for. The real beautiful curse is the struggle to reclaim both - to yield both the power of driving force and zen.\nWhat the system truly fears is a soul united by its pure love and acceptance and it\u0026rsquo;s limitless cosmic power to effect change and to colour this world in ways that we can currently only dream of.\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this reflection, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Reflections and essays direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe We only use your email to send Maegenki updates. No sharing. Unsubscribe anytime.\n","date":"2 November 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/conflict/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Conflict","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"28 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/awakening/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Awakening","type":"tags"},{"content":"Too often does one\u0026rsquo;s incompatibility present itself akin to struggling head first through a blizzard of icy shrapnel. It is an assault, both physically and mentally, as the white haze presents and attempts to overwhelm and to force one to retreat.\n\u0026ldquo;How dare you try to defy me?\u0026rdquo;, it taunts, as the confines and edges of your mind begin to close in on itself.\n\u0026ldquo;You are alone\u0026rdquo; - it continues.\nOf course you are, you do not even need to look into the frosty haze to confirm nature\u0026rsquo;s taunts, you have always felt it and always been more than aware of your isolation.\nYour awareness alone of the ensuing attack and chaos of all that around you would suffocate most others; those who do not feel and see that what you do, and yet this storm is not a random event - it is your existence.\nAnd yet, despite the attempts to drown you, to control you, to subdue you; time will slow and the overwhelm will subside. The snow hitting your skin will melt on impact and the winds around you will soften.\nIt is an odd sensation to be stood at the eye of a storm. There is a heaviness to the calm, a terror to the silence. The destruction continues, but there is a profound, deep, and beautiful stillness in my presence. It is a welcome reprieve, but it comes with a sense of sorrow. I am grateful for any momentary silencing of doubt and anxiety, but so too am I fearful of the silence - it carries a terrifying duty and responsibility; a clarity of which I still cannot see but that I can feel more than ever.\nThis place that I find myself is not peace, and yet neither is it sadness. It just is.\nPerhaps this is natural consequence of looking further and deeper beyond the chaos, that of course I would eventually reach the abyss and feel the presence of the supernova that presides deep within me. And perhaps I was expecting something destructive - something chaotic, messy, and broken; and yet upon surrendering to myself, I have discovered a beautiful and heavy quiet, all encapsulating at the same time, but something that feels true and right.\nAnd I have met it with a renewed awareness of the path ahead. A terrifying and yet necessary path, with terrifying loss and profound beauty and power - and seeing it with serenity and duty. It is an acceptance of a destiny that I cannot consciously see, but one which I feel and acknowledge. I sense a burden of duty and responsibility that I cannot yet comprehend, and a destruction and sacrifice that I cannot not yet see. It sits heavy on me, but my soul is telling me to accept with grace and purpose - like greeting a friend simply meant to be reunited.\nAnd with the acceptance of destiny and the surrendering to that so coined beautiful curse, so to comes the increased awareness and isolation from that from which must be left behind. Being present at the eye of a storm is to be detached from both the past and the present. I find myself at the moment of an implosion - with the knowledge of what once was, and sitting at the moment before the great expansion of which is impending.\nFinding myself creates an ever widening chasm to that which I know that I am not. The echoes of the shallow world drift further from me and I increasingly find myself between realities in a place where time runs slower and more purposeful. This solitary space is a world between worlds, one that is tinged with the ghost of sadness of what must be left behind to reach the sunrise at dawn.\nAnd despite the solitude I sense that this sacred place is familiar to others who are standing at similar thresholds, feeling the same profound sense of awareness of the path ahead. Perhaps in our worlds between worlds we do not yet shine bright enough to provide comfort for others, but there is a sense of connection much like a cosmic familiarity that despite being detached and isolated from the dull and corrosive society, that we are meant for something much more divine.\nThis stillness is the filling of the lungs of air before the song. It is the lighting of the match and the moment before ignition and amplification of the fires within our souls. There will be times when the blizzard is overwhelming, when the grip of the world tries to suffocate us, and when we struggle to make sense of that which life is telling us - after all we see and feel more than which others can only imagine.\nSo we don\u0026rsquo;t have the answers for what comes next, but perhaps for now, as we wait in the profound stillness of the collective deep breath in, it is enough to know that we are not alone in this solitude; for we are each sat primed with a beautiful and terrible power.\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this reflection, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Reflections and essays direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe We only use your email to send Maegenki updates. No sharing. Unsubscribe anytime.\n","date":"28 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/duty/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Duty","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"28 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/duty/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Duty","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"28 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/sacrifice/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Sacrifice","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"28 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/self-reflection/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Self-Reflection","type":"tags"},{"content":"As I free fall into the unknown I open myself to the world and I begin the plunge into acceptance of myself and my place within the universe; it comes with a serenity that is unexpected but welcomed. The roaring and vicious waves that once were crashing against all sides with anything trapped in their swell to be swallowed, settle.\nIt should not be a surprise, to be caught up in another contradiction. The closer I move to chaos, the calmer my soul. The more I open up to my vulnerabilities and embrace the uncertainties of the descent from the mountain, the more tranquil I find my mind and soul. I have jumped into the abyss; but what was once dark is now becoming clearer and I can make out the ground from the haze as the light starts to make its way through.\nIt is difficult to make sense of chaos, and it is unnatural to try. Stillness is chaotic to chaos itself, and thus attempting to control it, to calm it, would be futile. It is a matter of patience, and a large amount of courage to sit with it and to embrace it; to jump into the river and let it take you to calmer waters.\nIt is with a calmer mind that I have become very much aware of something existing within me that is trapped and fighting for a way out. It is a fire, a star, a nuclear reaction; confined to a human form, imprisoned and exiled from the universe as though some rogue and chaotic cosmic life force. It is the frustration that one feels with the world - it flourishes with the unfair, and the world is all too good at flaming the flames of injustice. Society is catalyst for lighting the furnace of the soul of those who feel deeply and who see the layers and complexities of life in ways that many do not.\nBeing aware of the existence of a deep anger and frustration with me has been difficult to comprehend and understand. It is but another contradiction - it takes a leap of faith into the unknown to calm one\u0026rsquo;s mind, only to find a powerful tension and anger tearing itself apart.\nThis chaos within is ever more present amongst a back drop of a calmer waters; a supernova amongst a galaxy of nothingness shines brighter and more beautifully than when in a sea of stars.\nAnd perhaps it is not simply a frustration of the injustice, but also an anger at the loneliness and isolation of being misunderstood and present as a shining cosmic ray of star dust prone to feeling and seeing and understanding, living amongst those who are unable or unwilling to see more; who are otherwise grey and unfeeling; ignorant, willingly or not, in such a society and time that rewards conformity, greed, and simpleness.\nThis frustration is not merely frustration, but a real and pure anger. It is an anger that it is here, rather than someplace else. But it is also a sadness.\nSadness does not sound so extreme or offensive as anger, but I have found that it is just as visceral and painful. Anger is a sharp blade that lashes out - it is fueled by energy, a dangerous and fast energy; it is the explosion reaction following a catalyst. Sadness on the otherhand is the dull blade that cuts slowly and purposefully; it lingers and consumes. It is corrosive. It is slowly drowning.\nSadness consumes.\nIt is not a sadness for any one specific thing, but perhaps a sadness at the world - a sadness of what is and what could have been. To be aware of the indescribable beauty and life that the universe has to offer means to also be aware of the death of beauty and innocence and the destruction and pain that we inflict upon one another. Life is complicated mess of threads of beauty, life, and emotions, interconnected and flowing across everything that there is - these threads light up with tremendous colours and glow with an intoxicating hue. Some people can pull at these threads, and see themselves and see the beauty themselves and see the cosmic dance as between the gaps in reality; but all too often those threads are pull and destroyed those with ill intentions and when severed the light is extinguished and darkness takes root and rots away all in its place. There is undoubtedly a collective grieving for a world that could be so much more, is turned into a mass extinction of creativity, joy, and love, at the expense of greed, control, and hatred.\nAnd yet, I have also found that as well as harbouring a cosmic seed of anger and frustration, fighting and bursting at the seams of my soul to unleash itself upon the world; I have found that this thing within me also dances to beauty of sunrises with the fog rolling off the cold fields, it is empowered and invigorated by music and masterful rhythms, it surrenders to idea of a pure and otherworldly love. It is the unrelenting and painful to do more and to be more. It is the power to do amazing and beautiful things.\nThis force within me is not the fires of anger or frustration, and nor is it the depths and despairs of sadness; it is not even the warmth of love or melting and insatiable emotion of witnessing beauty. It is rather, the source for my anger and frustration and love and passion and energy; it is the nuclear reaction of pure intensity. It is the cosmic life force that is confined to my soul. When this fire meets injustice, shallowness, and conformity, it naturally manifests anger and frustration; and when the same fire encounters beauty, truth, connection, it manifests as ecstatic joy, flow, and a feeling of true belonging.\nThis fire brings a depth and complexity that is otherwise missing from the world; it is the connection with the universe, the capacity to feel deeply. It is a beautiful curse that allows one to see between the cracks of reality and to see the threads of life.\nI say curse because within the fires and potential that sits within one\u0026rsquo;s soul that allows it to experience the world more deeply, sits also the pain of experiencing and seeing all that there is, even when hidden from view of those who either do not have it or who have shut themselves off so tightly from the world that they have all but extinguished the spark.\nIt becomes easy to look at other people as they wade effortlessly through the shallowness of society with a level of disdain; the apparent joy of the ignorant to continue with their existence without the urge to look for more, without the need to look deeper, without feeling that something is missing. They exist seemingly without the same spark of cosmic life within them, and so they are sheltered from the pain and feeling and injustice that is all around them. They are content to look at their feet, rather than to look up at the stars and seek a level of connection that simply cannot exist here.\nAnd so one sits; calmly, fully aware that being a lightning rod for emotion and passion and beauty is as though you have the power to see beyond the fabric of reality to see the very threads of life, whilst seeing within yourself that you carry this force and fire in your soul and it is yearning for connection and for what the world once was and what the world could be. One sits, and one accepts that to carry such a fire is to sit alone. To carry so much beauty is in itself a rarity and is wholly incompatible with the dull and lifeless society that has plagued our world and infected our souls.\nTo sit alone is unfair, and unjust. To be able to see more, and to feel more, is a cruel curse when so many are simply content with never looking underneath.\nAnd so one continues to sit and contemplates. Invariably one\u0026rsquo;s mind considers the weight and burden of the world, whilst also reflection on the injustice of seeing a level of detail and light that is unique in our modern world. As one contemplates, the mind sees the supernova in the night sky and how its beauty and light illuminates the darkness around it. It is the dramatic and chaotic explosion of a dying star, the remnants of which throw stardust out into the universe that become building blocks for new stars and planets. It is a beautiful rebirth that provides the light and energy for more stars to bless the night sky.\nIt is perhaps in these reflections that I consider that it is, more than ever, necessary for those people who carry such fire to burn ever brighter for the benefit of everyone.\nTo shine brighter than those around you is a burden; it sets you apart and to be a star in a night sky is scary and lonely. To hold onto the threads of life and of the universe is to subject yourself to all of the frustration, grief, and sadness that things are not what they should be. It is painful. But it also means that by holding on and allowing yourself to be everything that you should be; the beauty and the power and the joy and life flows through you and out into the world for everyone to see.\nIt will continue to be unfair. You should not have to carry the burdens of the world and the emotions that come with it; I wish that you could flow effortlessly and beautifully into nirvana and connect deeply with all that is around you in a sea of stars, of wondrous radiance and pure light and power. It is what you deserve. But I think about free falling into the abyss and the darkness clearing as the light from the stars illuminate my way, and cannot help but wonder where we would be if there were no stars - if there were not those people with fire in their souls.\nSome people burn themselves so bright that others can follow, and without these people we will all live in darkness. Much like a supernova, when we burn we create the light for others to capture; and perhaps with enough light people will burn all the same and collectively we can give colour to our otherwise grey world.\nAnd so it is a beautiful curse, to be you. You hold within you such a beauty and power that is otherworldly, and yet you are life itself. The world needs you, and your light, more than ever.\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this reflection, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Reflections and essays direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe ","date":"17 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/sacrifice/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Sacrifice","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"17 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/states-of-being/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"States of Being","type":"categories"},{"content":"","date":"17 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/categories/the-fractured-self/","section":"Categories","summary":"","title":"The Fractured Self","type":"categories"},{"content":"","date":"8 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/alienation/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Alienation","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"8 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/existential/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Existential","type":"tags"},{"content":"As I continue on a path of self-reflection and self-discovery in an attempt to better understand myself and my place in all of this, the more I find myself rejecting the very society and systems that I exist within. It is a lonely journey; the closer I get to myself, the further I move away from everyone else and from the world around me.\nThere is a sense of detachment and isolation that is inevitable when, after stripping everything back, you find that actually your very being and existence is an antithesis to the world that you find yourself. To exist outside of the system gives a unique perception. It gives one a sense of existing between realms or dimensions.\nBeing out of alignment with the fabric of society allows you to better understand yourself at the frequency at which you operate. To be free from the shackles of the world, its expectations and norms, is liberating, but also terrifying. It is as though you have pierced the edge of the universe and have been able to step through, to exist separate from all that there is so that the chaos and beauty within your own mind can re-calibrate and settle. In doing so though, you are left with the profound and alarming awareness at just how distinct you are, and frankly, just how incompatible you are with the wider system.\nAnd when the wider system is everything that we know, it begs the question as to just what there is to do?\nRejecting everything that you once knew and unplugging yourself from the machine is a conscious action that puts you at odds with society. Jumping off the mountain to truly embrace yourself, is act of courage and bravery that is very rarely seen. We are all conditioned to be who we are, we are shaped and defined by our usefulness or our contributions to economies. We are a reflection of society; and when that society is broken and failing, it is us ourselves who live broken and failing lives under the guise of normality and conformity.\nI have found myself reflecting on my isolation from the world, and have found myself overcome with a deep and profound grief for something that is still unnamed. The more I delve on the feelings, the more I ache and the more I yearn for it; and yet I am unable to understand that what is missing. I can feel it deep within me, a missing piece that has left an indescribable void - a black hole that absorbs all energy and attention, all thoughts of what is missing are destroyed and swallowed by the abyss.\nAnd yet, by way of a cosmic contradiction, the closer that I get to that what is missing, the more violent and forceful the resistance outwards. It is a secret. It is something that is forgotten, and that is fighting to remain forgotten.\nBut, that feeling, that missing piece, is not confined merely to me. It is a heavy and numbing overriding sensation that the world has forgotten something important. It is as though someone had stolen the moon, and we woke up to find something missing, without knowing quite what. It is like waking up without being able to feel the breeze on your face and forgetting what it felt like. It is like waking up and not hearing a sound, but simply forgetting.\nIt is as though all of the stars have gone missing from the night sky, and no one has the faintest of idea that they even existed. And then at night time we would look to the sky and see nothing, and we\u0026rsquo;d feel something, we\u0026rsquo;d have a sense of loss and grief for something that once was. We\u0026rsquo;d look up every night and see nothing, and yet we\u0026rsquo;d keep looking and keep searching. It is a terrible ache, a secret that was once known and now forgotten.\nI find myself reflecting ever more on those times where my the frequency within me has come closest to aligning with the outside world. Those times when rather than feeling as though I exist outside of a system, my true self and the power within me veers closest to the surface. Rather than operating at a completely different frequency to everything around me, it is the times that I can almost function as myself in my true form, in alignment with my surroundings.\nIt is those times when I feel fused with the world - when I am allowed to be; there is no doing, but pure being - pure presence.\nIt is in these states of flow that I find myself.\nIt is in these moments that I feel a sense of familiarity and a sense of remembering. Perhaps it is in these very moments that that missing piece becomes visible, even for a moment? Perhaps it is when I am allowed to truly be, where I am operating at my own frequency, that I am afforded the clarity and sense of purpose to be afforded the privilege and power of seeing that what is missing.\nThe answer, therefore, seems to be that one must seek out flow experiences and that the world is missing the authenticity and effortless that comes with living truly in the moment, at the edge of one\u0026rsquo;s abilities, and in true harmony with themselves and their surrounding.\nI fear that I will never truly be happy whilst I am missing that something. Regardless of circumstances and surroundings, missing that piece feels as though part of my soul is dead. Everything can be okay, it can be objectively good, but it will never be good enough.\nIt is that feeling that there must be more; there must be something else. And it feels like a curse to have noticed and to have felt it. To have a sense of profound realisation that true happiness and contentment may be forever out of reach because of the absence of some unnamed and unknown thing is unsettling and troubling. It is sad. It is difficult to comprehend.\nSeeing this as something being missing, I\u0026rsquo;m sure it common. It gives us an object of desire, a place, a destination that once reached brings the prize of joy.\nMy fear, is that there is nothing missing.\nMy fear is that some people are not meant for the world that we found ourselves in. They are so far out of alignment that it is not an issue of missing something either from themselves or society, but an issue of incompatibility. There is a hopelessness to that that numbs the senses; and even when attempted to be spoken with a flow or poetic prose, the reality is a deepening isolation. It is breaking through the edge of the universe to find that there is nothing else but all that is within, and darkness.\nThere is comfort in knowing that there are opportunities to become one with yourself and to experience flow. It is finding serenity within danger and intensity. It is in these moments that you are allowed to flourish as yourself because you are now in sync - your energy and frequency is finally aligned with your surroundings; and rather than feeling as though you are drifting through life like a ghost, observing all that is, feeling under stimulated and overstimulated simultaneously, you are finally allowed to be and to show yourself.\nBut, whilst there is comfort in knowing that there is respite; there is a heaviness that when existing outside of that flow state, you are again a contradiction and forced to endure and to survive, rather than existing and living. And after all, most of what society expects, and most of what it, and people expect from us, are the boring and mundane - norms and traditions and ways of being that simply do not ever reach the threshold of stimulating us to the point of entering flow.\nWhen your inner self is so deep, intuitive, and emotionally vast, entering this state may well be the only time when your internal world matches the intensity of the external world. It may be the only time one can feel at home. When the rest of life feels muted, chaotic, or too slow, this state gives you a taste of alignment. It\u0026rsquo;s not just peace; it\u0026rsquo;s belonging.\nAnd so whilst I yearn for that missing piece, that something that the world has long forgotten, so that perhaps it is out there to be found and rediscovered, my fear is that there are people who are simply incompatible with the world. Their energy, their frequency, their being, their trueselves are simply too much and too bright for a world that built and made to be greyscale, to be rigid and slow, to be shallow and devoid of meaning and purpose. These people find themselves in moments of true feeling, of times and chaos and beauty, and it in these moments that they feel a sense of connection to the world, because that is what they are - chaos and beauty.\nPerhaps there are people who are too much for the world. Perhaps they have within them remnants of stars and galaxies that demand a higher energy. Perhaps your incompatibility is merely the reality that your soul burns brighter, with more vigour, more beauty, passion, and emotion, that what society expects. It is a heavy price to pay to be isolated and misunderstood; but what would the night sky be without stars?\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this reflection, please consider signing up to the newsletter. Reflections and essays direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe We only use your email to send Maegenki updates. No sharing. Unsubscribe anytime.\n","date":"8 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/missing/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Missing","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"2 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/chaos/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Chaos","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/existentialism/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Existentialism","type":"tags"},{"content":"It\u0026rsquo;s hard to not think about your own insanity when your thoughts are competing with one another and screaming at you from every direction.\nEvery line written or every thought spoken is merely a chain of consciousness pulled from the darkness of my mind and shared with whomever should be listening. It is only even one branch of thinking, or one small isolated thought at a time. Do they represent me? How can they? But yes, of they do.\nCan you judge the ocean by one wave on the beach? That one small wave that ripples over the soft sands of the comforting beach fall in contrast to the dark terrifying unexplored voids that make up the ocean. Which one is real? Does the softness of the wave comfort you enough to feel an inkling of understanding, and perhaps it\u0026rsquo;s enough to put the darkness to the back of your mind?\nOf course I am plagued by some sort of madness. How can I not? I feel cursed in my own mind. I doubt myself, and my thoughts, and my place in the world. I am angry and bemused at the lack of a descent into madness, in fact. There has been no spiral or decline; it has just been uncovered by an awareness and understanding of myself and everything around me. It\u0026rsquo;s always been there; this chaos both inside me, in my chest - and the chaos in my mind. The ever present chaos, that is normally hidden and buried by the noise. So much noise. It\u0026rsquo;s all around us, and it\u0026rsquo;s purposeful. How can it not be?\nEveryone is blissfully ignorant, they\u0026rsquo;re happy to live their lives with their eyes closed; or worse still they will look wherever they are told, and will listen to whatever it is that they\u0026rsquo;re told to listen to.\nIt has to be madness.\nMadness by awakening; or perhaps sadder still merely opening one\u0026rsquo;s eyes to the flaws and chaos of your own design. An incompatibility with how the world wants you to be and wants you to live.\nAnd let\u0026rsquo;s be clear, it\u0026rsquo;s a people problem. These systems that control us or dictate every moment of our lives are systems and designs by people. The people who lack understanding, who walk around with their eyes closed, and are ignorant to everything including their own minds - they are still people, and so people are part of the problem. Of course they are. And can you see the irony of one person writing about how people are the problem to one\u0026rsquo;s madness? I see the irony, I think the irony; and it fuels the madness and the feeling of insanity. And so perhaps whilst it has not been a descent, it is just that I am on the top of the mountain and my fall is yet to come. Perhaps I am at the summit looking at and I am blinded by the overwhelming discovery of my curse and my rejection of what is right now; and perhaps the only want to see more of what is to come is to simply take a step forward and accept the reality of what is.\nMaybe it is comparative. Life is by no means easy for everyone - let\u0026rsquo;s get that clear; but we\u0026rsquo;re also talking about madness and so we\u0026rsquo;re allowed to talk in general terms. Looking from within and looking at the world it is difficult not to recognise the general ease at which the normal person has at existing. Of course thriving is another thing, but let\u0026rsquo;s talk about existing. How can I speak about the general ease as if I can live inside another\u0026rsquo;s mind? Well, to feel so unseen and misunderstood comes with being alone - if I lived in a world where everyone lived with the heaviness and the chaos and the madness I am sure I would have known by now - certainly the world we live in would be much different. I see how people act when they are in rooms full of people. I see how they talk, and how they plan their days and their lives.\nNo one talks with the contemplation and pain that attacks your mind when you live like this. It is unfair. I do not know why everything is so difficult for me, when it does not seem hard for everyone else.\nAnd so perhaps it is a desperation that I believe I am alone. If everyone felt like I do, and I was the only one finding things so difficult, I think I would find it even more difficult to bare. Not only being broken and suffering together with everyone else, but doing so and feeling alone again and struggling more so than others.\nThere is nothing wrong with struggling, I know that. But it is difficult to suffer and truly believe that. No one enjoys it. And yet, would I change myself for more sanity? Would I trade the complexities and the deepness and the madness for blissful ignorance and straight thinking and empty existence?\nNo, I would not. Why? I guess it makes me feel special. It makes me feel some sort of self importance that I wouldn\u0026rsquo;t usually feel. I do not think that that is coming from a sense of ego, rather I think it is a reflection of my lack of understanding from the world. Perhaps an element of it is that I find so much wrong with the world, and so my rejection and incompatibility represents a contrast to what I see as inherently evil and unnatural. In that contrast, my being is therefore also a rejection of those ideals and those negatives that I find so reprehensible.\nIt also represents to me an understanding and acceptance of myself in ways that I think I have not felt or seen for a very long time. If my madness is a natural state of being then what else can I do but to accept it with grace and clarity? It does not help me to live, and I would go as far as to say that my understanding and acceptance pushes me over the edge to where there is no way back but a descent down the other side.\nAnd yet I can still feel the apprehension. I am fragmenting and I can feel it, and I feel physically sick because of it. It is as though my mind and body is in conflict with everything that the world has tried to force me to become. Every time the madness has reached the surface there has invariably been a crash down to put me back in line. I can feel the cracks more than ever and I am closer to the resignation of the uncertainty, the emotion, the pain, and the chaos that is me. I can see that there must be some acceptance of self, and so seeing it means that there is still that something holding on.\nIs it that I am scared? To accept myself and my madness is to accept my differences and to accept the turmoil and confusion is a part of me and is something that conflicts with the world. Accepting that is akin to accept a virus or a curse. It is to accept the pain that comes from existing, and to accept that I am different. That I am the problem. That I do not need to change, but subsequently that things may not change.\nAnd so I find myself questioning my own value and place in the world whilst questioning my sanity. My consciousness is doing something and I am struggling to stay in control. I have been shaken up and there has been a reaction, and it is bubbling up and infecting my thoughts and actions, and there is a part of me that is looking to contain it.\nAnd there is a part of me that is begging me to accept it and to just let go.\nI can\u0026rsquo;t help but sense an inner me, a past self; a younger version of me hoping that I make the right decision. There is anger and sadness that he\u0026rsquo;s been buried and not allowed to be him. All I have to do is to let go.\n","date":"2 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/madness/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Madness","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"2 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/madness/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Madness","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"2 October 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/self-awareness/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Self-Awareness","type":"tags"},{"content":"I have lived with a profound sense of loneliness for as long as I can remember. It is an ever present feeling, and yet, because of its permanence it often sits in the background - something that is just there, something that just is.\nAnd yet, despite it\u0026rsquo;s permanence, it has felt ever more prevalent more recently to the extent that it feels more than merely the meaning given to it by the written word.\nIt does not get to the crux of what it feels like, and nor does it come close to exploring why it is such a constant in my life.\nIt is the feeling of being in a busy room and yet feel completely alone; completely distinct despite the proximity and acutely aware the entire of time at just how lonely it feels. It is an out of body experience - it is witnessing the separation both in a first person perspective, and as a silent third party observer.\nIt is walking down a busy street and yet everyone is walking in the opposite direction. Everyone is heading the same direction but you; their faces and their bodies are dark and merge into the crowds. Every now and then a face becomes clear and their details appear to you, before fading back into the mindless stream of people walking on by. And despite the amount of people, no one walks into you - they part and silently walk on by; too insignificant to even acknowledge or collide.\nIt is like existing in a parallel world and yet existing in the real simultaneously. Most of the time is spent looking out from the void, observing; observing everyone around and observing yourself. It is a strange concept - but it is though your physical body is present whilst you are hidden in the parallel world looking in.\nThis dissociation is more than a mere loneliness, and yet it is still a loneliness. It is a loneliness that does not dissipate with company.\nIt is possible to step into the real world from time to time and to exist with everyone else. Doing so takes effort and skill; one must always be aware of the toll it takes existing in the real world - it is the physical cost of fitting in and managing that energy is critical, for running out of energy risks losing your body from your mind and stepping back into the safety of the parallel word becomes that more difficult.\nThere is also the risk that for every moment spent outside of the safety of the void, parts of you are worn down and lost as people, items, and society look to wear you down and absorb you; corrupting you and molding you into something compliant and benign.\nWhilst there is an acceptance of this life, and a resignation as to the loneliness, it is only recently that I have allowed myself to feel completely and fully in a response to this existence.\nThere is a sadness in living such a way that you feel detached and dissociated from the world. It would only be right for anyone who has to experience that sort of loneliness to grieve. It is grieving the lost years being on the outside looking in, and there is an overwhelming feeling of sadness and loss at having to feel and experience the negative emotions come with feeling so alone. I grieve for a lost childhood, and I grieve for a loss of innocence.\nThis kind of dissociation is not merely the feeling of loneliness, and it not merely the emotional experience and toll that accompanies it. It is the feeling of being alone to deal with all of your troubles, fears, pains, and problems. It is the feeling of bearing responsibility for everything in your life. It is carrying everything on your shoulders with no one to share them with - not because there is no one around; but because your world is locked behind the glass wall - the parallel world hidden from existence.\nOf course, we are all responsible for our own lives, and all responsible for our own actions; but feeling locked away and feeling that responsibility far too young, is a heavy weight to carry; and not one that anyone should have to do alone.\nAnd so yes, there is a tremendous sense of sadness; but there is something else - something else that is often locked behind it all and hidden from view.\nSomething that we mostly try to hide, something that tend to bury and not try to avoid.\nAnger.\nIt is unfair to have to exist separate from the rest of the world. It is unfair that the rest of the world is so tiring, so fake, so bland; it is unfair that society looks to grind us, absorb us, to manipulate us, and to kill us. It is unfair there are people who can exist in the real world so seamlessly and so effortlessly, either ignorant or uncaring to so much. It is unfair that every time I step out from the void I have to pretend. It is unfair that people do not notice. It is unfair that people do not try to find me. It is unfair that people did not do more to share that responsibility.\nI am angry that everything is so difficult for some, and not for others. I am angry that we live in a world that forces people to hide. I am angry at people for not looking after for those suffering. I am angry that they\u0026rsquo;re not made to feel accepted or acknowledged.\nI am angry at having to exist separately from the real world, feeling locked up and out of place; struggling where people are thriving - or worse yet, not even being aware that they\u0026rsquo;re having to do anything.\nIt sounds dramatic - of that I am aware. It is also easy to question one\u0026rsquo;s sanity. The feeling of dissociation is real, and the pain and sadness and loneliness is profound. It is also unclear just how much of that dissociation is something inherently wrong with me; or even a pure figment of my imagination.\nIt is difficult for me to put into words the feeling of dissociation without the vivid imagery of existing in a parallel world. Describing it as merely loneliness is not enough. It really is a feeling of existing separately to everyone else, waiting for something to happen. Something that has real meaning, something beyond the trivial nothingness that society currently represents.\nFor there has to be something more. I can feel it. There is something, of that I know. I cannot tell you what, and I cannot tell you when. But I know that if you\u0026rsquo;re on the outside looking in waiting for something; it\u0026rsquo;s close.\nI can also tell you that you are not alone. It is not fair that you have to exist on the outside, and it\u0026rsquo;s not fair that you\u0026rsquo;re surrounded by so much lacking of substance, and by so much ignorance and lack of colour.\nThe world has lost itself and society is working to grind you down. You are stronger than you will ever know and you are perfect exactly as you are right now. I\u0026rsquo;m sorry that you did not receive the comfort, support, and security that you needed. I\u0026rsquo;m sorry that you have had to fight every day and that you have felt as though it\u0026rsquo;s an endless battle that you have had to face alone. It takes tremendous bravery to step out every day and to be yourself. I know that it is difficult to do so without that mask, or without holding your breath.\nI hope that more people can shine their lights and I hope that people can spread more colour in the world so that you can step forward without fear.\n","date":"28 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/dissociation/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Dissociation","type":"posts"},{"content":"","date":"28 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/dissociation/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Dissociation","type":"tags"},{"content":"","date":"28 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/tags/masking/","section":"Tags","summary":"","title":"Masking","type":"tags"},{"content":"I spent some time at a local pond. It was around 9pm. No one was around, and my only company was the local ducks. There were a couple of bats flying above me doing, what it looked like, laps of the pond.\nI was getting annoyed at the street lamps because of how bright they were. There is something relaxing about looking out into the night\u0026rsquo;s sky; and there is something about man\u0026rsquo;s unhinged contempt for all things natural, that became ever so evident as the light from the street lamps added an annoying glow that washed out the beauty of the universe.\nI found myself becoming angry; we build over fields and forests, we build roads and concrete over the land, and we even try to combat the nature of the sky and the darkness that it brings. Perhaps it was not the street lights specifically that filled me with such despair, but rather it was the culmination of what has felt like an ever increasing assault on nature.\nIt epitomised to me, society\u0026rsquo;s desire and need for control; it is not content with indoctrinating us and manipulating our time and energy for corporate gain and personal greed, it is not sufficient that we are bled dry of joy and empathy and left numb at the terrors and overreach. No, the powers that be are not satisfied that they have broken us; they want to extend their control to the rivers, to the forests, to the seas, and even to the skies above us.\nI find it very challenging to go through life feeling the heaviness of what I feel is society\u0026rsquo;s contempt for people. And when I say society, I do not mean society as a collective of the people - what I mean is the wider system. We are all part of society, and so it\u0026rsquo;s hard not to feel burdened when society is unbalanced - and it feels very unbalanced currently.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s also hard to shake off that feeling of responsibility. Of course I should not have that burden solely on my back, and I will preach about looking at what you can control - but it is hard, and sad, to see and feel just how unnatural and bad things are sometimes. It feels as though we, and I, should be doing something.\nAs I looked up at the sky, trying to pierce through the haze of the street lamps, I also thought about the night sky in itself, and perhaps saw something of a reprieve from my disdain for how things are.\nI am an emotional person. I can be ruled by those emotions, and often, the negative emotions can weigh heavy and the light side of me, the unburdened, free, and joyful me, is hidden beneath the surface. When you are weighed down with negativity, it acts like a jacket, and actually it prevents you from feeling and experiencing the good emotions. You become numb to everything around you, perhaps as a way to survive, but also perhaps because that is what a heavy blanket of negativity does. It is all consuming and it blocks out everything, including, emotions, of which it is.\nI thought about what it meant for it to become night. Of course, it is the spinning of the earth, and the absence of sunlight as we face away from that massive ball of gas and fire in the sky; but I thought about what it meant, from a more poetic perspective.\nThe night sky was a reminder for me that despite everything, things will correct themselves and times will change. Life is about balance, and the universe operates in such a way that means that balance is inevitable.\nNight time is the reaction to the day - for all the action and heat of the day, the world needs to take a deep breath and to sleep. For every day there is a night; it is a breath in and a breath out. We have both summer and winter, and we have both hot and cold.\nAnd perhaps there is an argument that one cannot exist without the other, in the same way that we can only experience happiness if we know what it is like to experience an absence of happiness.\nThe pain we feel when we lose a loved one can only be felt because we have loved so strongly. Grief is the price we pay for having felt so much happiness and joy.\nTo experience highs of any sort, we must know what it is like to experience the low. It seems perverse to look at pain and sadness and the lows they bring and see them in a positive light, but without those feelings we cannot experience the amazing and beautiful emotions that gives us such highs.\nThe ironic thing is that, much like when we\u0026rsquo;re buried in such negativity, too much of something causes us to become numb. A life of pure happiness sounds amazing, but if the only feeling you ever felt was happiness, you would lose all context of what it means. Perhaps it is why we enjoy sad songs and films with such emotional roller coasters. Yes, we want outcomes to be positive, but what really allows us to feel is the ups and downs along the way. We need to experience both sides to truly understand and enjoy the positive. Which is perhaps a good lesson for life - it\u0026rsquo;s not about a destination or a feeling, it\u0026rsquo;s about experiences; both good and bad. We want to feel and to do that we need to experience as much of life as we can.\nWhich leads me back to society.\nAs it tries to tighten its grip on us, there was something about looking at the night sky that gave me hope. The harder and further that we\u0026rsquo;re pushed, the greater the reaction when things strike back to become balanced. And just the notion that things will come to pass, is in itself a reassuring notion. I\u0026rsquo;m reminded of Sam\u0026rsquo;s speech in the Lord of the Rings:\nFrodo: I can’t do this, Sam.\nSam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.\nFrodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?\nSam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.”\nAnd so I am left with a feeling of optimism, despite the heaviness in my heart.\nWe are taught not to feel and to not express ourselves. We are so often bound by the chains of societal expectations, corporate greed, and the egos and narcissists with far too much power. Society looks to seek more and control, and us, much like, and as part of, nature - pay the price for the unnatural crusade of our rulers and the dark and evil people in this world.\nBut despite that, the sparks that each of us have inside of us have the potential to bring about such light and emotion back into the world, and that fills me with hope. We are emotional creatures with dreams and desires. We are boundless, and it is time that we are allowed to flourish. It is time for each of us to unshackle from the dogma and false scripts that we are burdened with by the society around us, and to start realising our own powers.\nWe must acknowledge that we cannot allow ourselves to become numb. We are feeling a lot, and a lot of painful and heavy negativity, but that should not mean that we stop all feelings. We must allow ourselves to experience all that life has to offer, for it is the only way that we can truly experience the highs and joys that the universe has to offer.\nWe need to feed the light within us. We must push ourselves to be all that we can be; and the only way to do that is to face challenges head on, to lose, to face setbacks, and to keep moving forward. We must learn to see the positives in the negatives, and to learn from our defeats. The stronger we become, and the more we flourish and allow our sparks to burn brighter and truer, the more we allow light to be shared for others; either by leading the way or by filling the void and pushing back the darkness.\nJust as the night returns after day, so too does balance return; perhaps it is we who are those who must bring about the balance that we seek to see?\n","date":"21 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/balance/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Balance","type":"posts"},{"content":"My brain has been in somewhat of a loop thinking about why I - as an extension we, don\u0026rsquo;t do those things that we know are good for us.\nI offer prospective solutions, but I am faced with a barrage of further questions and roadblocks that prevent my mind from putting into words just what is preventing me from doing what I know must be done.\nIt is tempting to stay in bed longer, to keep scrolling on my phone, to turn on the TV, and to relax. One part of my brain is telling me that these things should be avoided and take up time that could otherwise be spent doing something productive.\nWhat is productive? Well, productivity in the sense that we initially think of has been kidnapped and ravished by corporate types and businesses who would metaphorically whip you for sitting down and taking a break, or for not getting up at 5am.\nYet, at the same time, we all know how bad it is for us to spend time doomscrolling or sitting watching endless series on Netflix. It is as though, like a lot in our world at this time, both sides are presented as extremes and so the inclination is to fear both - not knowing what side to come down on and not knowing what side is better. Of course, in the context of the wider world, one side is definitely worse, and I will never be quiet on that opinion (and I find the premise of not being honest about that hugely troubling and not reflecting the pure reality of what is going on), but that is a topic for another day.\nI know the dangers of doomscrolling, of wasting my life endless taking in shallow information, and yet I do not want to be a slave to productivity for productivity sake. I know the benefit of rest, and I know that people say that if you are enjoying something, then what is the issue.\nAnd here lies the dilemma in my own questioning of why don\u0026rsquo;t I do what is good for me when I know what to do? - I cannot take it as simply one question, it is a myriad of dilemmas and further points to ponder.\nSo, what is the truth? # I guess the first thing to put to bed is the idea of doomscrolling vs productivity - both are victimised, and frankly both are wrong.\nBrain Rot # We spend far too much time on screens and simply filling our already tired brains with pointless information and scaremongering. Brain rot is the appropriate term, because that is what it is.\nThe two main arguments in favour, is that 1) if it\u0026rsquo;s enjoyable then it\u0026rsquo;s fine, and 2) we all need a rest.\nAlas, this is difficult for many to hear, but life is not about being enjoyable. In the same way life should not be about being happy, a task\u0026rsquo;s enjoyment level is not a good determinant of it\u0026rsquo;s value.\nSomething enjoyable can be inherently bad for us, and more than likely and more importantly, time spent on that \u0026ldquo;enjoyable\u0026rdquo; task can spent elsewhere. Quick fixes of dopamine numb us to the true enjoyable things in life and kills our abilities to focus for any prolonged amount of time.\nOf course, being happy or enjoying something is good and I don\u0026rsquo;t mean this in a way of saying that life needs to be a punishment; but those things that are good for us, spiritually, intellectually, physically, typically require some sort of challenge.\nMihaly Csikzentmihalyi described flow as an optimal state of consciousness where we feel our best and perform our best. It is the state that we enter when we become so absorbed in a task that we lose track of time. Flow is highly correlated with both subjective well-being and psychological well-being - making it a significant driver of happiness. Csikzentmihalyi\u0026rsquo;s research suggests that individuals who experience flow regularly tend to develop greater self-esteem, concentration, and long-term life satisfaction, even if they report less immediate \u0026ldquo;fun\u0026rdquo;.\nThe key to entering a flow state relies on challenge, and balancing that challenge with one\u0026rsquo;s skill level. It is argued that achieving flow state for one\u0026rsquo;s life would be the ultimate goal for meaningful life.\nThat\u0026rsquo;s to say, meaningless tasks, brain rot, doomscrolling, do nothing for us. Which leads me onto point 2), these activities are not rest.\nThe bombardment from social media, TV, or even the news, actively engages our brains and hits it with crap (for lack of a better word). It induces anxiety and causes are brains to constantly be turned on; seeking every last suckle of that dopamine teat. The algorithms are created to take over all of your attention and time. You may be sitting doing nothing, but you are hooked into the machine; and you are the product.\nProductivity # Productivity has been kidnapped by corporations and businesses to the point that we almost see it with the same sort of distrust of social media, and it works in the same way.\nIt holds us down and absorbs our energy for corporate gain. It thrives on keeping us tired, sapping our energy to be used for business gains.\nThe issue with the popularised productivity is not the idea of being busy or completing tasks, but the end product and its extremities. If social media is a constraint that bleeds us dry whilst we\u0026rsquo;re strapped down, the productivity fad is the treadmill that sweats it from us. Under both, our attentions and time are being siphoned from us.\nBoth take our time. And this is where we really get caught out.\nWe forget that our time is limited. We tell ourselves than an extra 30 minutes on our phone is fine - because half an hour is nothing. It does not stop us from doing anything in our days - it\u0026rsquo;s fine.\nThe average life expectancy in the UK is around 80 years.\n80 years 960 months 4160 weeks 29200 days 700800 hours 4204800 minutes 2522880000 seconds\nAnd you will never, ever, ever get any of those seconds, minutes, hours back. Once that time has been spent, it\u0026rsquo;s gone.\nThe average screen global screen time is approximately 6 hours and 38 minutes a day.\nHere\u0026rsquo;s the scary part, you are not 80; and there\u0026rsquo;s a good chance you won\u0026rsquo;t reach 80. Those timers will not stop, and you never quite know if it\u0026rsquo;ll jump to 0.\nScary # I would suggest that the truth lies in the direction of your time and energy.\nProductivity is not a bad thing when time is spent improving ourselves, helping others, or spent living meaningful and purposeful lives. Of course, it can be difficult to then decide what tasks are worthwhile, which can be paralysing in its own right, and I apologise for putting that out into the world.\nResting, also, it not bad. Resting is integral to our health; sleep is probably the most important thing to help our health. But resting should be exactly that - rest. It needs to be time spent allowing our brains to relax and recover. We must remember that our brains are separate to our bodies - they are still working over top even if you are sat still. Rest needs to be purposeful time spent where our brains can either shut off, or at least operate in a smooth harmonic motion. And that is difficult.\nOur lives are busy and the world is noisy. Have you ever laid in bed at night with the window open and become acutely aware of how noisy it is outside? Cars, people, businesses. Perhaps you zone it out, but your brain is still processing that noise - all the time, and that requires energy.\nWorrying about your work emails? Have a busy commute? Feeling anxious about the news? Comparing yourself to others, subconsciously or not, on social media? Energy.\nSo why don\u0026rsquo;t we do what we know is good for us? # Deep down, we know what is good for us. We know that exercise is good, we know drinking plenty of water and eating healthy is good, we know that connecting with others is good, we know that learning keeps our brains active and is good, we know that challenging ourselves is good and how amazing we feel afterwards. We know that taking care of our health and personal hygiene is good. We know, without any further overcomplication, what is good for us.\nWe also know what is bad for us. And whilst we seemingly justify those bad decisions, oh it\u0026rsquo;s just one bottle, oh I can sleep more tomorrow, oh I can start the gym next week, we know what is bad for us.\nWe want to lead meaningful lives, and we want to improve ourselves and be the best that we can. Insecurities and doubts perhaps paper over those desires, but I\u0026rsquo;m yet to meet someone who could not honestly tell me that they don\u0026rsquo;t have an inherent drive to live a meaningful life and want to be the best person that they can.\nSo why don\u0026rsquo;t we do it?\nI think, even if I did not have an answer before writing, the words itself have uncovered a solution. It is overwhelm.\nWe are drowning in information and doubt, that we feel overwhelmed. We are not in tune with what we really want or need for ourselves because our attention is constantly being fought for, whether by the modern world around us, social media and corporations, the news, other people, our own anxiety and fears.\nWe are even then overwhelmed further by our own questioning and doubts. We question, much like I have questioned, well is it really that bad, or perhaps well what is good for me?, and even if you come out the other side with the desire to shut out the noise and to give in to your soul desires, it then becomes a okay, so what is the best thing for me to do?.\nWhat is the solution? # I don\u0026rsquo;t know, I\u0026rsquo;m just as overwhelmed as everyone else. That is the truth. I am struggling in the modern world because my brain is always turned on and I cannot escape the barrage and assault on my senses.\nI suppose, if I looked at it logically, the first step would be minimise the overwhelm by quietening the noise. Remove social media, cut down on screen time, avoid watching TV, ignore anything that is trying to compete for my attention, and take control of where my focus and time is spent.\nOnce the noise and overwhelm has been reduced, it would be about spending time on activities that genuinely help me and align with my purpose. Of course, this adds a further step of having thought about your purpose and what is meaningful for you. I believe that we all have something within us that intuitively we know if something aligns with what we\u0026rsquo;re meant to be doing. It might not be something we can put into words, and perhaps it will be a little inconsistent, but I think that we should better trust our intuition and voices that come from deep within us.\nAnd perhaps it would help many to simplify (which is another essence of reducing overwhelm).\nIf it helps, I have put together a very basic task list as a way to get moving forward. I hope that it helps to reduce some overwhelm, and whilst I\u0026rsquo;m not expecting it to be a quick fix, I\u0026rsquo;m sure that it can be the start of a system or a new set of values to help you feel less overwhelmed and feel more aligned with your purpose:\nLimit distractions - reduce screen time, reduce TV, cut out people who do not benefit your life or who cause unnecessary drama. Do basic self care every day - brush your teeth twice a day, shower, wash your face. Eat well - say no to processed food where possible, and eat more fruit, vegetables, and protein. Cut out snacking, and have consistent meals. Drink more water Do something for your body every day - exercise every day. Even if it\u0026rsquo;s a walk, or a light stretch - do something. Do something for your mind every day - do something that challenges your brain; a puzzle, a sudoku, learn a language, read Do something for your soul every day - spend time with a loved one, draw, paint, write, read, sit and watch the birds, anything that feeds your soul Sleep well - try to wake up and go to bed at the same time every day. Make a bedtime routine that includes turning your phone off (see number 1), have a nice warm shower, read a book, go to bed feeling relaxed. When you wake up in the morning, get up without looking at your phone, and have a glass of water. Optional:\nSubscribe to the Maegenki Newsletter Subscribe ","date":"13 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/overwhelm/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Overwhelm","type":"posts"},{"content":"I am feeling a lot, to the point of overwhelm. The more I try to list and the more I try to feel the more that emotions wash over me and consume me.\nAnd yet, despite feeling so much, I am also feeling so little.\nIt is as though there is a system overload deep within me. It is as though I have my foot flat to the pedal and the engine is revving to its limit, but the car is not moving. For all of the power and intent, it is getting stuck.\nIt is with some irony that I am struggling to put this into words, for what I think is the problem is that our languages fail us. They are simply not complete or complex enough to properly encompass and translate what our bodies are trying to tell us.\nI often fail to be able to describe my feelings, and yet the outward view of that is that it means I am either disconnected from those feelings or that I do not have them in the way that others do, those others are able to better describe their happiness, sadness, or whatever it is that they\u0026rsquo;re able to put into words.\nI would argue that the opposite is true. I can feel the emotions so strongly and so true that I simply cannot put into words what I am feeling.\nNot because there is something wrong with me or even that I lack the emotional intelligence to do so - it\u0026rsquo;s because we do not have the language to properly describe what I\u0026rsquo;m feeling.\nWords are not enough # How can you feel something as heavy and painful as sadness or grief and describe it with a word? Or even a phrase? It\u0026rsquo;s not through not feeling that we struggle, it is that those emotions are too complex to accurately put into words - words that we have created and put together.\nPerhaps it is why poetry and songs are so fundamental to human experience. They attempt to do what we cannot - they attempt to describe the indescribable using words and sentences. Maybe some get close; but none ever reach the complete totality of what it is to feel something.\nOf course, this is when describing our feelings to other people - but how is that any different to how we interpret and feel our own emotions?\nHow can my brain translate indescribable emotions if it can\u0026rsquo;t speak the same language?\nIf a dog, who cannot understand human languages, has a voice in his head speaking English that tried to describe the concept of \u0026ldquo;tomorrow\u0026rdquo;, would the dog have any clue of what was going on?\nOverwhelm through lack of translation # There are often times when I know something, without being able to think it or put it into words. It\u0026rsquo;s probably not that rare - think of the times when you have been thinking of a word, that despite knowing exactly what you mean, you can\u0026rsquo;t find the word that translates that meaning. How many times have you been able to either visualise, or feel someone\u0026rsquo;s presence in your mind, yet been unable to remember their name?\nNames are yet another powerful language metaphor to describe the point.\nYour name, the combination of letters, is used to summarise everything that you are. Rather than describing you, or to attempt to put into words everything that you are, we simplify you and your entire existence into a couple of words.\nOne may argue that this is accurately summarises everything that one is and identifies said person in such a way that is fine. But how can that be enough?\nNot Enough # It raises far too many questions, and some that unanswerable, and perhaps by even asking them I am either missing the point or overcomplicating things. But if we describe a person by simply using their name, it means that each person\u0026rsquo;s interpretation is dependent on what they know of that person.\nYes, one may argue that the name \u0026ldquo;John Smith\u0026rdquo; encompasses everything that John Smith is, but who John Smith is, depends on one\u0026rsquo;s knowledge and experience of John Smith. Is John Smith to you the person and their actions, but what of their hopes and dreams; and if so, how can you know what \u0026ldquo;John Smith\u0026rdquo; is without knowing everything about John Smith.\nI digress.\nHappiness is but a word that means the emotion of \u0026ldquo;happiness\u0026rdquo;. It is assigning a label to the emotion that we experience, and yet, whilst most of us would probably know what happiness feels like, we cannot be certain that it exactly the same for each of us. Neither can we say that happiness is the same every time we feel it. Of course, the label itself is helpful in communicating concepts, but to actually describe happiness using words is an entirely different challenge. And if we cannot describe it, how can we say that we understand it?\nSignals and Intuition # Perhaps that unease that we feel about the world, is the world, the universe, our souls, something, telling us that things are wrong. We all have our intuition, and yet often we cannot put it into words until it has actually happened.\nClearly there is a processing issue - where we can know and feel something, and yet not know it. How can we simultaneously know something and yet know it? I can know milk is milk, but if someone asked me in Chinese whether I knew where the milk was, I wouldn\u0026rsquo;t know.\nWhat are we missing out on? # It begs the question as to what are we therefore missing out on? What concepts are we yet to understand or comprehend because our language isn\u0026rsquo;t complete enough?\nIt is often said that when trying to think about one\u0026rsquo;s purpose in life, that people feel their purpose. This usually stems from firstly feeling that something isn\u0026rsquo;t aligned, but it then becomes a deep rooted feeling as to this is it but is impossible to put into words. We usually use a sentence or a phrase in attempt to give a framework or direction, but the real meaning or purpose is wrapped up in the feeling, and we can\u0026rsquo;t quite access it.\nWe know the purpose, but we can\u0026rsquo;t accurately process it because we have a language limitation.\nPerhaps neurodivergent people, who are often seen as not being able to describe emotions as well as neurotypicals, are more aware in more in tune with these feelings and emotions and the native language from within, so that they are more aware of the translation errors and language limitations. Perhaps they are not so happy at placing complex and complicated emotions and concepts into narrow defined boxes (words) when they are much more.\nI think that the world and the universe is often telling us stuff and we\u0026rsquo;re blissfully unaware. Perhaps those people more sensitive to those things around them are more attuned and listening. Perhaps we\u0026rsquo;re missing the translation that is required to actually understand what we\u0026rsquo;re all feeling.\nIt is in silence and meditation that we tend to understand things better and our thoughts and feelings become more clear. Maybe this exercise is stripping back our man made languages that limit us, and allow us to become more attuned with our native language from within.\nModern society has a way of bombarding us with noise. Maybe it is this bombardment of noise, energy, and information, that keeps us so misaligned from what we really feel and what we really should be doing. Is it a design of modern society to keep us overwhelmed and detached from the natural langauge of the world around us and the messages from our souls? I don\u0026rsquo;t know. That would be cynical. Although, I am cynical.\nThe end result is the same. The increasing overwhelm causes us to become further detached from our natural selves, and that serves only those who strive for oppression and order.\nThat is a talk for another day.\nSign Up for Letters from Maegenki # If you enjoyed this reflection, please do subscribe so you can be told when something new is released.\nReflections and essays direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe ","date":"11 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/language/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Language","type":"posts"},{"content":"I often get caught up in the darkness of the world. It is difficult not to. When you are emotional or intuitive, you can\u0026rsquo;t help but feel a sense of unease and worry about the way things are. I\u0026rsquo;m not sure whether it\u0026rsquo;s something deep within us that feels it, like a sixth sense, or a language that we have long forgotten - but I feel it, and I know others feel it.\nThat unease spreads, and so many people are plagued by the negativity and dogma in the world. Not only is that natural, but it\u0026rsquo;s forced on us; whether for clicks or headlines, or for political gain - bad news grabs attention and stirs up emotions.\nIt is also cyclic and recurring. We feel the darkness in society around us, and we can\u0026rsquo;t help but feel negative and down ourselves; which is then apparent to those around us. We feel guilty for carrying the burden of society, which reinforces the negativity. It can feel hopeless.\nI\u0026rsquo;m not sure if I\u0026rsquo;m a glass half full, or glass half empty person, such are my fluctuating moods and emotions; but I know what it feels like to be burdened by everything going on around us, especially when compounded with one\u0026rsquo;s already existing doubts and worries. It is like adding spoonful after spoonful of dirt to the glass of water, and then shaking it up vigorously.\nWhether the glass is half full or half empty matters not when the water is dirty and full of dirt. When shaken, we can no longer even see the water - we can only see the dirt; the darkness and the despair.\nPerhaps it is why it suits so many people for so much negativity to be in our faces? Perhaps they do not want us to see the water, the reality; perhaps they want us to be shaken and so we only focus on the dirt.\nStop # And so, maybe, it\u0026rsquo;s time to stop. Relax, and breathe.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s not about not caring, but rather; just like one does between two breathes, we just need to actually stop and pause.\nWhen we stop shaking the glass and relax, we give the water time to settle. The sediment falls to the bottom of the glass, and we can see the water once more.\nI get caught up in my emotions and I absorb the negativity to the point that I grip harder and harder to that feeling of wanting to do something to make it better. Sometimes though, the harder we hold onto something, the more we try to force things, the more difficult we find it to do anything.\nWhen I stop and relax, it allows me to see the world in a different light. The water is clearer. I see scared people who are doing their best. I see people with tremendous light and potential inside of them looking for the courage to be themselves and make the world a better place. I see the beauty in the mundane, I see the beauty that is always there, always around us. I have the time to be grateful to be here.\nRather than losing my patience with some awful driver, it allows me to be happy to have the time to sing to another awful song (that I love nonetheless) and to be appreciative for feeling the air from the window as I drive by.\nWhen I stop focusing on the rest of the world, I free up energy to spend on myself.\nRiver # We are told who we are supposed to be and we\u0026rsquo;re bombarded with thousands of social media profiles that force us to compare ourselves, every single day. We\u0026rsquo;re asked stupid questions about what job we want to do in the future. We\u0026rsquo;re expected to socialise, have a hundred friends, go have fancy meals, don\u0026rsquo;t forget your coffee (best not forget to post about it), not married yet? Uh-oh shame on you /s.\nMost of us feel stuck in our lives because we spend so much time being told to think about who we are, or being told who society thinks we should be, with ample evidence and comparison to try and justify it.\nWhat we all forget, is that become who we are by being and doing.\nWe spend our entire lives trying to fight the flow of a river. We\u0026rsquo;re of the impression that we need to brute force it. We need to keep moving forward toward the right path.\nJust let go, and relax.\nAs soon as we decide to go with the flow (yes I know\u0026hellip;) we feel lighter and we free up so much energy that we can allow ourselves to be who we\u0026rsquo;re meant to be. As soon as we stop resisting our natural inclinations the sooner we find out who we really are.\nOf course, that does not solve all issues. We must be careful to avoid being a passenger to life. But life is a series of choices that we must make every single day. Most people decide to either spend too much energy on the wrong choices, or decide to ignore them entirely. Learn to spend your energy on those decisions that are in your control, and learn to make decisions for the right reasons; that is key.\nI wish that I could make everyone feel that some hope and calm that comes with stepping back in those calm reflections. I wish I felt it more. I wish that those people who often feel stuck and paralysed could see that their beauty and joy that the bring to the world is not through doing what society expects from them, but by being authentically and unapologetically themselves.\nSometimes it\u0026rsquo;s not about making big plans or deciding right then and there who you should be and what you should be doing, but rather making small decisions each and every day to do and be more than you were the day before. Find joy and beauty in what you do, and be guided by the light inside you.\nOur time is finite, and it could end at any given moment. We could spend that finite time worrying, we could spend it watching Netflix or scrolling on Instagram, we could spend it working a job we don\u0026rsquo;t like, we could spend it pretending to care about fake friends or socialising when we don\u0026rsquo;t want to\u0026hellip;\nOr you know, we could spend it doing stuff that actually matters and that makes us happier and better.\nSometimes you need to stop and relax to better see what\u0026rsquo;s important and what to spend your precious time on.\n","date":"6 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/relax/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Relax","type":"posts"},{"content":" Sign Up for Letters from Maegenki # Direct to your email. Unsubscribe anytime.\nSubscribe We only use your email to send Maegenki updates. No sharing. Unsubscribe anytime.\n","date":"3 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/subscribe/","section":"","summary":"","title":"Subscribe","type":"page"},{"content":"This is not really working for me. All of this, society, and world stuff.\nI can feel my body rejecting all of it. I can feel my DNA screaming at me that something isn\u0026rsquo;t right. It\u0026rsquo;s never been a logical thing, it\u0026rsquo;s never been something that I have been consciously aware of; but it is there, deep within me, and now that I have heard it I am not sure that it will ever go away.\nDepression # I am weighed down by a heavy blanket of depression. It is a dark and hopeless wave that has been crashing over me, and it is taking a lot of energy to keep my head above the water-line. As one does when caught in that trap of despair, I have been trying to think my way out of it (which will never ever happen).\nAs part of that, I can\u0026rsquo;t help but wonder about why.\nOf course, part of the why is that my brain is wired in such a way that I am susceptible to feeling depressed, and ultimately, whilst there are triggers or warning signs, sometimes it just hits and I have to ride it out in any way that I can.\nDepression, just like autism, has a significant genetic component; and it is very much in my genetics. That, and with research showing that autistic individuals are four times more likely to develop depression than non-autistic people, means that ultimately if depression is a wave - I am a rocky beach.\nBut why? If both depression and autism have such a significant genetic component, then why exist? We have developed and evolved to give our DNA the best possible chance of being passed down - evolution would suggest that such traits tied to our genetics should have given us some sort of evolutionary benefit at some time - otherwise, why appear and continue being passed down so successfully?\nWhy? # Has there been an evolutionary benefit for us to suffer from depression or have autism? It would feel to be some sick joke given that both make living now considerably more difficult, and arguably counter the argument that it is a benefit at all. In fact, one would probably consider them malapdations. But the very fact that they persist so strongly suggests that they likely carried some benefit.\nIt is tough to make arguments for why depression would be beneficial. It does, however, bring with it a certain ambivalence that would mean a calm head in dangerous or stressful situations. It sounds odd, I confess; but having worked in stressful situations, it is amazing how closely \u0026ldquo;not caring\u0026rdquo; comes to \u0026ldquo;keeping a calm head\u0026rdquo;. A depressed person, would typically be easier to spot, and so when language was in its infancy, those who are suffering would stand out. Being depressed also brings a certain level of critical rumination that may bring about complex and perhaps philosophical answers to problems facing the group.\nAutism is much easier to argue - autistic traits; deep focus, detail orientated, memory, pattern recognition, would all be invaluable in a hunter gather society. Heightened sensory perception would help to detect predators, environment changes, or even subtle changes amongst the group.\nBoth depression and autism increase sensitivity to the environment and tune them differently to the world around them.\nWhat is also interesting is that the same wiring in our brains that make us susceptible to depression and autism, makes them more capable of empathy, creativity, and depth.\nModern Society # The traits that once would have made people who are now more susceptible to depression or who are neurodivergent, invaluable to a community, now causes them to suffer as modern day society looks to strangle out empathy, crush creativity, and demands conformity.\nThe same wiring that heightens suffering also expands the capacity for beauty, empathy, and imagination. It is though nature traded stability for potential brilliance. It is a double edged sword - the price for extraordinary empathy and creativity is vulnerability and overwhelm.\nI\u0026rsquo;d argue that the people are suffering now by the weight of society are those who would have flourished previously. And more and more people are becoming aware of the stranglehold that modern life has on us. It is unnatural. Our bodies and our souls are crying out for something else.\nThose in power seek to control and destroy everything around them for greed and personal greed. We crave freedom, peace, community, and beauty.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s time to realise that it\u0026rsquo;s not simply that we\u0026rsquo;re unhappy, it\u0026rsquo;s not simply that we are down. The pace of \u0026ldquo;development\u0026rdquo; and change has far outstripped our ability to stay in tune with the world.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s an itch; a craving. I hope you feel it too. It is an inescapable desire that you can\u0026rsquo;t put into words. You can try, and you can feel it. It comes from deep within and it wants you to reach out. It\u0026rsquo;s the feeling of not simply wanting to take the lid off the jar, but to take it and throw it hard onto the floor.\nMy brain is struggling to deal with this depression, but yet whilst I\u0026rsquo;m being held down to suffer, I can feel that spark even stronger. I can feel the imbalance and I can feel an even great desire to restore that balance.\nTo live with that greater awareness and feeling of the world around us feels like living with the volume turned up. Everything feels louder, stronger, and more painful. But it also looks brighter, more beautiful, and feels even better. Society has labeled traits as disorders, and yet it is society that is broken.\n","date":"2 September 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/genetics/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Genetics","type":"posts"},{"content":"I have read that we do not write true tragedies as we once did.\nHamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Oedipus Rex. I\u0026rsquo;m not as well read as I\u0026rsquo;d like to be, and so I\u0026rsquo;m unqualified to critique that assertion, but the article seemed to suggest that it was a forgotten art form.\nI say this now because I wonder if the real tragedy is the world that we live in and the society that we have allowed to exist. I\u0026rsquo;m not too sure when we started to go so dreadfully wrong, but it\u0026rsquo;s clear to see that not all is right.\nEverything around us has been developed and set up in ways to control us, and to restrict our freedom. It is everywhere that I look.\n\u0026ldquo;That\u0026rsquo;s just the way things are\u0026rdquo; one may say; but why?\nI\u0026rsquo;m loathe to swear when I am writing, it seems lazy. But, alas, why the fuck have we allowed the world to become what it is?\nThe rich and powerful control governments, which now function not to help its citizens, but to control and restrict, and to funnel the means of labour so that those at the very top can profit off of the blood, sweat, and tears, of the 99%.\nWe have become so brainwashed that we do not even question it any longer.\nI know you can feel it. The injustice of it. I know you do.\nYou know that something isn\u0026rsquo;t quite right, even if you haven\u0026rsquo;t been able to put it into words.\nI\u0026rsquo;ve felt it too. It lays heavy on my soul, and my thoughts have been restless and disturbed and how unfair things seem.\nThe greedy and the corrupt and mean and terrible rise to power and there is seemingly no consequence for those with ill intentions. In fact, it seems as though it is rewarded. It\u0026rsquo;s hard to argue that governments are not being run to the whim of some unknown people who are forever lusting for more power and wealth. Political parties change, as does policy, but there is never any real positive change for society, other than for the worse.\nYou are taxed more and more and yet you see less and less for your contribution. You can barely survive whilst billions are spent on bombs.\nWhere can you go that is not owned? Where can you go where you do not need permission to exist?\nFreedom is but an illusion, a dream sold to the normal man to placate him so that those in the shadows can profit; and the price to pay is but his soul.\nWriting tragedies may be a forgotten art form, but the real tragedy is that we have let the world fall into the hands of immoral people who restrict our freedom.\n","date":"30 August 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/tragedy/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Tragedy","type":"posts"},{"content":"I have thought about death a lot recently - I thought about death today.\nI thought about the emotional scars that I\u0026rsquo;m still carrying, and those moments in my life relating to death, that have stuck with me and that I\u0026rsquo;m to experience in the future.\nSomething that I feel with my soul is being in the home of someone who has recently passed away; when all of their possessions, and especially their photos, are exactly where they left them.\nIt feels as though part of that person is there in those items, and yet simultaneously, you\u0026rsquo;re hit with that wave of emotion and thought that they\u0026rsquo;re gone.\nThere is something so deeply personal about it that it very easily brings me to tears.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s the realisation that every item there meant something to that person; whether it was an experience, a memory, or even just a feeling. At some point in time that thing meant something personal to that person who is no longer here. It\u0026rsquo;s hard not to feel the energy, the emotions, and memories; and to argue that a part of that person must be there in those items.\nIt is like a part of your soul imprints on everything that you interact with.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s surprisingly uplifting, I guess, to think of it like that.\nOur interactions with people, animals, items; everything in the universe, leaves an impression and so a part of us is with everything that we meet and interact with. It is an encouraging thought, and a good reason to live life to the fullest - to live authentically and unapologetically true to yourself. It also means that our loved ones become part of us with every interaction, which is beautiful and poetic in itself.\nI believe that we all have an energy; I\u0026rsquo;m not sure that I understand it, well, I definitely don\u0026rsquo;t, and I certainly cannot explain it, but I know that I definitely believe it. I feel it. I sense it.\nMaybe it\u0026rsquo;s why going to those houses are so overwhelming for me. The words do not exist to be able to explain it; and I am but a mere mortal with limited knowledge, but what I can say is that it feels as though their souls have left a mark.\n","date":"26 August 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/thoughts-of-death/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Thoughts of Death","type":"posts"},{"content":"I often think about my purpose. It is talked about as one of the most fundamental aspects in living a more fulfilling life, and based on just how frequently it shows up, I can\u0026rsquo;t disagree.\nFriedrich Nietzsche is quoted as writing, \u0026ldquo;He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how\u0026rdquo;. This was later used by Viktor Frankl in his book, Man\u0026rsquo;s Search for Meaning. And even more importantly (because it is one of my favourite books) Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi concluded in Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, that they key in inducing flow for your entire life was to live with a purpose beyond yourself.\nPurpose, therefore is a compass, or a light in the dark, which can guide us through our lives. It can help us when we feel stuck and it can give us a reason to keep moving forward. It can also help us to decide what to do, which is often the reason why so many people feel helpless or lost in life - they simply don\u0026rsquo;t know what to do.\nIt always begs the question as to what is my purpose? How do I discover my purpose? Surely if I knew my purpose, I could dedicate my life to something, and I would no longer feel as though I was walking aimlessly into the night.\nPeople make a living on trying to tell you how to figure out your purpose. They will sell you a guide, or sell you a show, and if you just follow the steps\u0026hellip; pure enlightenment.\nWhat I have come to learn about purpose, is that it\u0026rsquo;s very rarely something you can put into words. It\u0026rsquo;s so often a feeling, or something deep inside you. It most regularly appears when we aren\u0026rsquo;t aligned with our purpose, it\u0026rsquo;s that feeling of knowing that where we are or what we\u0026rsquo;re doing, just is not where we\u0026rsquo;re supposed to be.\nBut even so, even if we are able to listen to that thing deep inside of ourselves that we\u0026rsquo;re able to decipher even the generality of our purpose; how much meaning can we give to it?\nI have many times come close to feeling aligned with a purpose. Even now, writing this post, I would be able to verbalise a meaning of sorts, that would be enough to give me purpose and direction.\nI should be happy, yes. And sometimes I am filled with a sense of clarity that I truly feel as though I have a why to live; and I feel that I am confident in what I should be doing because I have that why to guide me.\nBut, my brain is cynical and so I am not happy, and I\u0026rsquo;m not satisfied with the idea of having an ingrained purpose, something that comes straight from your soul. That\u0026rsquo;s not to say that I disagree with the premise; there are times when I can feel it inside of me. I know when I\u0026rsquo;m not on the right path, and I know when I feel aligned with what I am supposed to be doing. That it undeniable.\nMy quandary comes from where that purpose comes from.\nFirstly, if our purpose comes from deep within, is our purpose, as we see and feel it, a product of our lives lived to that point? In the same way that one\u0026rsquo;s upbringing shapes what we need from the world, does it therefore shape what we feel we should be doing?\nI think of athletes who have an unrelenting desire to push themselves. When shaped in a sporting sense and when success is the context, this drive is seen as a positive. When seen in the context of a failing relationship, or a life falling apart, such a desire can be interpreted as a need for approval or a deep insecurity that one is not good enough as they are.\nThat\u0026rsquo;s not to say both cannot co-exist. The basis for Maegenki is of course that duality - one can acknowledge and have the understanding that one is good enough right now and always, whilst also having the fire within to explore and reach their potential. Nevertheless, the point still stands.\nAnd so in the same way, if someone\u0026rsquo;s purpose is to bring joy to the world, what does it say about them as a person and their past life? Does it say that they have a deep meaning that comes from their soul to be a beacon to the world and to bring smiles and happiness to all around them? Or perhaps there is something that means that they know what it feels like to miss that joy in their life, and so what they feel would be best service to society would be someone who brings that joy so no one can feel like they once did?\nIt is a reflection, of course, and a cynical one at that. It also begs the question - so what? A purpose is a purpose, irrespective of the true origin.\nWhich leads me to my second point; can we accept purpose as an altruistically good thing, or is there an aspect of selfishness?\nAlan Watts used to argue that everything we do we for ourselves. Even acts perceived as unselfish or altruistic are ultimately driven by the self\u0026rsquo;s desires.\nIf my purpose is to be a guiding light for others and to lead by example so that people can feel emboldened to pursue themselves and to recognise the light within themselves, he would perhaps argue that it stems from a desire to achieve a certain self-image or to be seen as powerful or morally superior. His reasoning related to the very aspect of \u0026ldquo;self\u0026rdquo;, in which he argued does not exist as it implies the self is separate from the universe.\nI will admit, it is something that causes me to stop and think. It is a difficult concept, but also one that allows me to think more about myself. Watt\u0026rsquo;s argument relates more specifically to self-improvement, but the argument clearly can apply to other chains of thought. The differentiating factor, I guess, does align with his wider world view.\nThe purpose from earlier, for example, would not be self-improvement for self-improvement\u0026rsquo;s sake; to dedicate my life in the pursuit of improving myself and acting as a guiding light for others, is in itself a direct acknowledgment that the self and the world are not separate. It could be argued that it is in fact very much improving the world by improving oneself, which hits the heart of Watt\u0026rsquo;s thinking.\nThe final question I am left with is, does it matter?\nSome would argue that our purpose is a message from our soul. Some would argue that we can create our own purpose by simply deciding what we want it to be. Perhaps there is truth in both perspectives; what it ultimately leads me to believe is that we spend too much time thinking about what our purpose could be, and not enough time living it, or living in general. Having a why does help the how. It is undeniable that having a purpose in life helps to guide you and to give meaning to everything you do.\nBut, I would argue that it is more important to live with purpose.\nMaybe we do all have a pre-determined purpose.\nMaybe what we feel is our purpose, is actually determined by our upbringing.\nMaybe we can simply decide what our purpose is.\nMaybe what we feel is our purpose is inherently selfish and self-serving.\nDespite all the maybes, perhaps the most important thing is that we don\u0026rsquo;t forget to live. A duck does not sit and wonder its purpose, neither does a cloud, or a wave, or a ray of light. If you want a purpose, then live a life of happiness in the moment, live with unrelenting joy that you, right now, are perfect and exactly what the world needs you to be, live with so much authentic energy that people are encouraged to do the same. Live with the knowledge that a ray of light does not ponder its place in the universe but it will still guide you and warm you.\n","date":"25 August 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/purpose/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Purpose","type":"posts"},{"content":"I have found my mind slipping to places that I\u0026rsquo;d rather it not. Not yet has it arrived to dark places, but I can feel it tip-toeing that line and that path that leads to ever less light.\nWhy? So many reasons.\nOne of which is the looking outside and feeling like a prisoner in a world and society not that does not quite work. It\u0026rsquo;s not inherently bad, it\u0026rsquo;s not obviously evil or oppressive, but it\u0026rsquo;s that feeling that it\u0026rsquo;s not the way it\u0026rsquo;s meant to be. I can\u0026rsquo;t help but look out the window, and when I do, I see houses, and roads, and cars. I walk outside, and I walk along paths, cars drive by, there is the murmur of chatter all around, and yet it still doesn\u0026rsquo;t quite feel the way it\u0026rsquo;s supposed to feel.\nIs it the greys of the concrete and tarmac or the general overwhelm of a noise? Or is it deeper, is the sense of walking along roads where fields and forests must have once flourished, and rather than a natural landscape of life and wonder we\u0026rsquo;re presented with pavements and houses?\nThere is something in looking around and all the things around me that does not work. It\u0026rsquo;s the amount of notifications on our phones and the constant fight for your attention, and it just is not right.\nIt\u0026rsquo;s the sitting in an office, earning money for someone else so you can keep 10% of the value you make, so you can buy unnecessary things to fill that void in your life.\nI feel disconnected because I can\u0026rsquo;t understand how this is what we\u0026rsquo;ve made everything, and I can\u0026rsquo;t understand how our lives are painted as normal, when they are so unnatural.\nThe changing tide of society has far outpaced our biological evolution. For 95% of human history, we have lived in fields and forests, working with our hands, immersed in sunlight and adventure. We now spend our time in open plan offices. Is it a wonder that people feel detached and restless? Or is it a surprise that we feel trapped by a society, when it is so unnatural?\nWe\u0026rsquo;re experiencing an existential dissonance because our lives feel unnatural; and they feel unnatural because they are. We are wired for stories, intensity, and adventure; and yet we\u0026rsquo;re expected to go shopping, decorate your house, go for a coffee. How can beings wired for adventure, growth, and wilderness and story, function when stuck inside a machine of convenience, exploitation, repetition, and domestication?\nI feel disconnected because I feel that I don\u0026rsquo;t belong. It\u0026rsquo;s easy to blame yourself when you don\u0026rsquo;t fit in, and it\u0026rsquo;s easy to feel that you\u0026rsquo;re the odd one out. It\u0026rsquo;s easy, and it\u0026rsquo;s lonely. It\u0026rsquo;s lonely to feel such a disconnect that you feel it in your body. It can eat away at you, and it can lead you to dark places that end with the feeling that if you don\u0026rsquo;t belong, perhaps it\u0026rsquo;s better if you weren\u0026rsquo;t here.\nThe truth is that perhaps there is a bravery in feeling disconnected, and a unique courage in being lonely despite it all. This society is unnatural, and to feel out of place in such a world should be normal. To feel that disconnect means a strong sense of being that many people are seemingly sleeping on. To be yourself, and to stand up for your feelings, in a world that values conformity and compliance is an act of freedom and rebellion that we should be proud of. It lights the way for others.\n","date":"20 August 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/disconnect/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Disconnected","type":"posts"},{"content":"It is odd.\nIn a world where so many are accused of sleep walking through life; why people do not grip hold of those threads that the universe offers that make them feel alive. It is an abject irony, I suppose, that we are so numb to so much and yet we do so much to avoid such passion and fire.\nThere are so many things that make me feel alive. Alas no, those words do not give justice to what I\u0026rsquo;m talking about.\nWhat I am talking about are those moments, those things, that cause your soul to dance and burn and feel.\nOur understanding of life and our connection to it is limited by the languages that we have created in an attempt to communicate and describe the world around us. And yet, despite our best attempts, there is still so much around us that we\u0026rsquo;re unable to put into words. Not because we don\u0026rsquo;t feel it in our bodies, but because we lack the language to translate those mystical concepts into words and thoughts.\nWhy is that important? Because I\u0026rsquo;m trying to describe the feeling I have when I want to push the pedal in my car flat to the ground; it\u0026rsquo;s the feeling when a song flows through me and I become one with the music and words; it\u0026rsquo;s the feeling of being under the bar at the gym and feeling that you can move mountains.\nSometimes I think that it\u0026rsquo;s what freedom feels like, but I can\u0026rsquo;t help but think freedom would feel more calm.\nThis is not a calmness. This is an unwavering passion and energy. It\u0026rsquo;s the desire to push and fight. It\u0026rsquo;s the desire to step closer to the limit, to tip-toe on the knife edge between safety and the abyss, and to dance, to fight, to feel, all with the most supreme confidence and clarity of thought.\nSo why, when we can feel with such intensity, do we accept such monotony and a world devoid of emotion and meaning? Is it that society is created as such to keep us numb and compliant? Or perhaps, we, as a species, are simply made to be mindless slaves at the whim of anyone who is greedy enough to take advantage of our sleepwalking?\nI hope not. As bleak and depressing as it appears, I hope that we\u0026rsquo;re made to pull on all of life\u0026rsquo;s chords and to live a life full of passion.\nI hope that I\u0026rsquo;m not alone. I hope that I\u0026rsquo;m not the minority, caused to feel and desire in an emotionless cruel world that looks to crush spirits.\nI don\u0026rsquo;t think that\u0026rsquo;s the case. I think there are people who feel it even now. An itch that can\u0026rsquo;t be scratched, a fire within that can\u0026rsquo;t be put out. That yearning for something more. The feeling that there is something inside of you screaming at you to be let loose. Something you can\u0026rsquo;t quite put into words. To do more, to be more, to see things, to push yourself, to struggle, to fight, to love harder, to feel harder. It\u0026rsquo;s a yearning, yes.\nSouls on fire in a world striving to extinguish your flame. I hope you burn so brightly that the line blinds all the doubters and acts a beacon in the darkness for all to follow.\n","date":"18 August 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/posts/soul-on-fire/","section":"Posts","summary":"","title":"Soul on Fire","type":"posts"},{"content":"Welcome to Maegenki\nMaegenki (may-yen-kee) is the poetic dance along the knife-edge between acknowledging that one is perfect and complete right now; deserving of love and gratitude, and the unrelenting need of a soul on fire to explore, improve, and to unleash itself unto the universe whence it was once at one with.\n","date":"17 August 2025","externalUrl":null,"permalink":"/about/","section":"","summary":"","title":"About","type":"page"}]