Why do we believe we deserve contentment? Amongst everything else, my mind has decided to linger on this to the extent of a perpetual migraine residing in my temple. Let’s rephrase. Why do I seem to believe I deserve contentment? I’m not talking about a limitless & bountiful state of content – just a hint...
"kinky sex dungeon"
I’m lucky. I have always been surrounded by good food. The term “Good Food” is debatable. We all have our own views on what food is “Good”, we’ve built an entire culture around it. Can food be “good” if it isn’t healthy? If it isn’t pretty enough for Instagram? What’s wrong with a 2-for-1 pizza...
Being a bystander teaches you a lot – just not from experience.
I turn 21 tomorrow. I’m still trying to work out how much I actually care. It’s arduous, attempting to collect your thoughts when the mind is overrun. Did I ever tell you about my first kiss? I was 9 years old at a school disco. It happened in the entrance of All Saints Hall whilst...
"Don’t write down 'cool' or 'hip'."
"We spent evenings feeling as if we had found clandestine graves amongst the boisterous Tel Aviv night life in the form of small coffee shops, cheap bars in old markets, beer bazaars and late night street food."
"I felt deeply connected to this whale because, not only do we both feed on several species of squid, but our awkward noses give us character."
"Flynn’s ever-appealing resonator guitar and sombre resonance came forth to greet me like an old friend."
"I see people day-to-day trying to make money from things such as Youtube, which used to be a platform for creatives, and it being milked like the cash cow that it now is. There’s an endless stream of challenge videos and clickbait gaining thousands of views whilst others barely get any credit for original content."