A good book is worth the ruin

Once, I could not imagine that a book might hurt me.   It’s like this. Not much different. Reading, like lovemaking, is among our most private of pleasures. An act that asks for you to leave your armour at the door and wear only your vulnerability. Books and their secrets. Books and the secrets they cannot keep. Like […]

Loving yourself is an act of submission

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence,   it is self-preservation,  and that is an act of political warfare.” – Audre Lorde Self-realisation is a necessary but lonely path. Sooner or later, it should happen to you, unless your nature is that of a particularly tenacious ostrich. It is not an overnight train to Bruges. It is […]

For all things that must end 

I am now thinking of what marks finality.   I believe sometimes it can be just where you… Well, stop.  That should be enough to say ‘it is done with.’   Of course nothing is ever truly done with, not as long as there is memory, and attachment, and possession. We may hold on to […]