Self-cremation
At night our pyre glows with sudden flares as tongues, ensnaring trees, condemned by us, the virtuos wardens turned to butchers, hangmen and assassins; we, the undertakers watch our garden […]
At night our pyre glows with sudden flares as tongues, ensnaring trees, condemned by us, the virtuos wardens turned to butchers, hangmen and assassins; we, the undertakers watch our garden […]
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Now we see through a glass, darkly
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Verba volant, scripta manent !
About fantastical places and other stuff