the echo of god

i find the concept of ‘god’ to be an important one in how we interact with and understand ourselves. not god as a sublime being, but god as a conceptualised version of you .

god facilitates hard conversations that we struggle to have with ourselves.

god allows us to express emotions to ourselves that we mightn’t feel comfortable to let out when alone.

god allows us to acknowledge and accept the unpleasant things about ourselves with a sense of neutrality that doesn’t descend into self-hatred.

god is the therapist, god is your rational mind, listening and responding to your irrational mind.

god is you – the echo of your own deepest thoughts and feelings.

to me, god is not a man or a woman. there is no one in the sky, there is no heaven, there is no hell. there is a conscience that exists within you but there is a fear to connect with it.

god doesn’t impose morality or ethics, good or bad, sickness or health, but allows you to hear yourself – the answers god gives you are your own answers echoing back.

the purpose of god, is to abate the fear of knowing yourself and connect you with your own conscience.


we built this city (song associations)

you know someone, then you love them, then you hate them, so you have to get used to not knowing them anymore.

sometimes that’s okay but other times it feels weird and wrong – just like this song.

you think of them when you drive, work, sleep, walk, and look out over the view you two loved.

then you get it out of your head, cuz what else!?

two princes (song associations)

once you’ve felt something once, it feels entirely different on subsequent occasions. he was seventeen and i loved him so dearly and with desperate commitment, but part of me always felt nostalgic when we were together because i always knew it would end. he’s twenty-one now and it’s impossible for me to look as myself now, as i did then. i liked loving him; it was dumb but fun. he was stupid and funny and those first days were the sweetest days i’d ever felt. the sound of my phone was orchestral and the scent of my p***y was industrial (-:

the crow – a 2012 find

said the crow to the eye:

“i see how you cry,

you cry because you’re lost in the world.

your hair is thrown up

like your dinner and lunch

you act like a woman

but you’re only a girl.

you use me to find and you use me to feel

light in a world where you’re blind

you’ll run when i’m near

hold tight when i’m far

but it’s you, not me

you must find.”


Wednesday 26th March 2014, 9:25am (looking out the window in English)

“I wish for a small time, that I was that duck. Alone, wandering through the damp grass, eating little bits that I find as I go. It looks like such a happy little life living behind those beady eyes and inside that low-hung belly. I wish that I would never know, like that duck, what my backside looks like. The duck doesn’t need to have talent or intelligence or personality, just the simple, animal instinct to sustain its life. It has wings, but chooses not to used them because unlike us humans, it is happy where it is. It would be rather catastrophic if humans were given wings because even the short time I have here to observe this duck is limited, before the everlasting desire to rush away to somewhere else, sweeps us up and away with the ring of a bell.”

lily jane

i was only nice to your face

but who finished first in the race?

it wasn’t me in bitterness

it was you, so pretty in your dress

i think back on days in the park

you picked up my peices

as i tore myself apart

chubby legs by the sea

and dinners with our families

a call away, a thrown stone

and letters when i stayed at home

mineral powder and hand-me-downs

california gurls from the crowd

before i painted my life in anon-grey

and pushed my real friends away

hateful words in jealously

when anger got the best of me

sideways glares for no good reason

didn’t know why i was leaving

i never threw another stone

never waved on the drive home

i was to blame for that sour end

(you became my ex-best friend)