~ What We Need ~

~ What We Need ~

“We don’t need more graduates, more executives, more professionals. The streets of society are already full of overly sane people and what we need right now is a little more explosion and colour. Right now what we need are the painters, the poets, the crazy ones. We need the ones who are not afraid to shake the world into life; the ones not afraid to share their soul’s contents with the world; the ones not afraid to spew out their passion and pain onto a blank page or canvass. We need those erupting hearts bleeding themselves dry. Those erupting hearts bringing some colour back into the mix. And in the end it’s those erupting hearts who remind us all of what it is to be human – the ones who voice that fierce inner nature of the soul which tells us no matter how much greyness society pours down, there will always be some wilderness left untouched in the hearts of us all.”

“Art’s task is to save the soul of mankind.” – Terence Mckenna



~ Being Yourself ~

~ Being Yourself ~

“You march to a different beat. You know it. You’ve always known it. You hear the things they don’t hear, see the things they don’t see. You feel something different when you stare into those skies and walk down those busy streets. And it’s that moment when you stand and face out into the great unknown, and you feel it calling you away into the wild. The adventures. The wonders. The dreams. The magic and mystery. Don’t shy away from it any longer. It’s time to stop hiding who you really are. It’s time to stop dwelling in a life which doesn’t fulfil your soul. Accept you are destined for something more than another standardised existence. Break free from that crowd. Emerge into the light of your truest life. Move fearlessly towards the shores of your own destiny. Ruthlessly pursue your unique passions and gifts. Be bold. Be different. Be beautiful.”



~ Straight From The Source ~

~ Straight from the Source ~

“Why can’t you just write something normal, you know? Why can’t you just write a book about your actual travels? Why all the weird existentialism?”

I know, I know. My writing is not radio-friendly. It’s probably not going to make me many friends. It’s also not going to be something my parents will read through with a smile on. But it is the raw truth of me that fills my flesh and bones, and in this world that is something that my soul yearns out for. I do not believe that what this world needs right now is another middle of the road story. I do not believe what we need are some more people playing it safe. No, no: I do not want to add to that. In this life what we need are a few people to stand up and show who they really are to the world. What we need is some raw authenticity and gritty truth – a look at the dirty underbelly beneath the masks and makeup of the human race. What we need are the secrets of the silent souls – if only to let others out there know that they aren’t alone with how they feel in this life.

Yes that is what we need, and so here it is from myself: the mess and madness from my mind. The scraps of insanity in my skull. The aches and pains in my heart. The things that I can never speak when I stare into the eyes of you humans, but only express once I am alone in a room at a keyboard, separated from society, the tether cut so the spirit bird can finally rise up and express itself. And yes, I know it isn’t all pretty and polished, but better to be a genuine mess from the source of the soul, than to be perfectly packaged in a fake plastic reality.”

short stories

~ The Fighter ~

~ The Fighter ~

“I sat alone in my room with the grenades going off inside my head. Another day of stupidity and absurdity had been endured. Stupid people with stupid comments ran rampage in my mind. They rioted against the walls of my skull. Out there beyond those windows was a society that didn’t understand me – a society that didn’t want to understand me.

So often in my life this world had me up against the ropes. It cornered and attacked me. It beat me to a bloody pulp until I found myself back in the same old spot: sat alone in a dark room with my fingertips over a keyboard. It was true that that spot was my personal nirvana. When I faced into the eyes of the humans out there, I could never quite express or get my words out to them. My mouth was simply too small to vent everything I had going on inside my chaotic mind. I was like someone trying to drain an ocean through a bath plughole. And so, unable to respond, my voice was continually drowned out by everyone else around me. But when I was at the keyboard suddenly I had the ability to speak my mind – suddenly I had the ability to respond against the madness of it all. When my fingertips touched those keys, I felt strong enough to fight off entire armies and hordes of haters. Each word I typed was like a great punch back against the idiocy and stupidity of the world. The act of writing was an epic battle and eventually I realised this was what I would do until the death. This is who I am; this is what I do.

     I am a fighter and these fingertips fight for freedom. They fight for truth. They fight for the voice of the outsider which has been drowned out by an insane society. These fingertips fight for the stray dogs, for the misfits, the eccentrics, the wanderers – for the ones who don’t try and fit into a world that doesn’t fit into them. And long shall they continue to fight. Yes, as the concrete of this world pours down, as stupidity rules the airwaves, as the politicians plot – as the idiots bark and mindless crowds conform to mindless convention – these fingertips fight for the fact that no matter how much idiocy society produces, there will always be the truth of the outsider fighting its way out from the darkness – untamed and undefeated forever.”

the fighter.jpg

(taken from my book ‘The Thoughts From The Wild’ available here)


~ An Unsolved Puzzle ~

~ An Unsolved Puzzle ~

“Cultures are like jigsaw puzzles and not all of us slot so easily into place. The pieces who don’t fit in are usually the ones who realise that there isn’t even a puzzle to be solved. Life is not about being pushed down and being rigidly confined in one spot forever; it is about exploration, evolution, and changing shape. That is the fundamental structure of the universe after all – a constant movement of waves and energy. Why allow yourself to be trapped and restricted by other pieces? Why be one shape when you can be many? So just don’t do it. Don’t be just one thing. Don’t let your entire existence in the universe be defined by some job title. Be a nurse by day and a unicorn by night. Be here, there and everywhere. Be weird – be stupid – be absolutely off-the-wall crazy. Whatever it is you do, please, just don’t be a jigsaw piece.”



~ Raising Your Voice ~

~ Raising Your Voice ~

“In an insecure society they will shoot you down for speaking your own mind. The masses do not want to hear or see things that rattle the cages of their psychological prisons. But do it anyway. Live your passion; wear your madness. There are already enough people hiding who they are – who are letting themselves slowly wither away in crowds of conformity. What this world needs is something raw; what it needs is something real. What this world needs right now is the sound of your soul roaring out into the night.”


~ Infected ~

~ Infected ~

“One day in this life you realise you are infected with the condition of being an outsider. The symptoms are revealed to you gradually. As you walk the neighbourhoods of normality you realise your heart yearns for something else. Stability and security only give you a feeling of sadness. You have no interest in the contract of life offered to you. As you stare at the rows of houses and green lawns and shiny cars, as you look up uninterested at career ladders before you, as you stare wistfully into space in the supermarket queue, you gradually begin to realise that something isn’t quite right about it all. Every ounce of your being rejects the things you were told to desire. What gives you fulfilment simply isn’t available in their stores or on their menus. You have no interest in material riches or status. Their television shows and newspapers are toxic poison to your mind. You are allergic to their conventions and expectations. The suits and ties don’t fit you. What is important to them, to you seems utterly meaningless and trivial. In your world adventure and exploration and art rank above all else. Yes, accept it: you have the alien madness – the condition of being an outsider. You are infected. Do not trouble to even try and cure yourself, it will only make you worse. No, no, no: forget the therapists, forget the sensible advice, forget trying to fit into a society which doesn’t fit you. Do not trouble yourself. Here is what you shall do:

    Let the infection take over. Let your eyes become bloodshot with blinding passion. Let your skin be shed, let your soul be set on fire – let that heart of yours become filled with poetry and madness. This is it: you were never one of them anyway, and the sooner you accept you never will be, the more powerful your mutant soul will become. You will liberate yourself from society and walk those streets with a rare strength and joy – a feeling of freedom not known or understood by those who define themselves in groups. The world around you will glisten with magic – you will see things they can’t see; do things they can’t do; go places they can’t go. You will attract strange glances and stares – sometimes in secret admiration, sometimes in fear. You will terrify some and inspire others beyond belief – and as the infection spreads further, you will grow stronger and stronger – fiercer and fiercer. Nothing will be able to hinder you. Things like isolation and rejection will only fuel your desire further. No cage or poacher will be able to capture your wild heart. You will be unstoppable like a storm; you will be impenetrable like a mountain. You will live the life of a fearless adventurer and go to the grave knowing that your life was lived with absolute fullness. The flowers around your grave will blossom with an exotic beauty; the birds will sing songs about your adventures at your headstone. You will have been totally consumed by your passion. You will have stayed happily infected till the end of your days. You will have died knowing that this world could never find a cure for your beautiful madness.”

(taken from my book The Thoughts From The Wild, available here)