Flotsam and jetsam, this life
“15/2 I think I myself am growing too. I realize so many of my thoughts about your father were based in fear and a faith in men that has fallen and soured through experiences. I seek, my Daniel, from...
View ArticleA chapter reading by the author: Chapter Gullible
Thank you for coming by WordsFallFromMyEyes. And they have. Still do. Below is a video reading, with asides, of the chapter far below. ~ “Beloved Daniel, my son, It is near midday. You’re asleep...
View ArticleSurvival of life remained not possible without mental spillage by pen.
Thank you, Aunty Uta. You made a comment some weeks back. You said people would be interested in reading my James Diary – the words I wrote in my first year out of marriage. I wrote it here and...
View ArticleYour perspective IS your reality
Good morning, Subbers Some days – aye, not all days, but some days you have a certain perspective. It just comes about, I don’t know, perhaps from fatigue, being rundown through your days, from ennui,...
View ArticleWhat IS it?
With everything before me, everything yet to be done, I could not help but do it. To live in disarray would remind me too badly of our old Housing Commission house, where dad raised me from age 10. I...
View ArticleThis is when I became a zombie
Gidday, Subbers What were you doing in 2008? If that was “just another year” to you, it probably didn’t impact on your memory. But it impacts on mine – Daniel and me haven’t had a holiday since 2008,...
View ArticleGreater, the injustice
An actor, I used to be – on stage and in student films, TV commercials and every now and then in the background of feature films like The Great Pretender, Blackfellas, Wind. An actor I still was,...
View ArticleWhen one door shuts, another slams in your face, breaks your nose and leaves...
Greetings Subbers — Good morning, night, now or then, wherever you are around this big spinning world that we connect through. As ever, thank you for being there. No-one ever says ‘When one door shuts...
View ArticleThe survivor must endure the stigma, of having merely survived.
“Prose is architecture, not interior decoration.“ - Ernest Hemingway Ah, but life. But Subbers. Sigh. Good morning. For me, it is Saturday 8.11 a.m. I have a coffee to hand in my boudoir first...
View ArticleThis.
I was 19, well and truly pre-Daniel. I had met a sailor at 17, some months after I’d fled my father’s domain. I married the sailor at 19 because he kept on asking me – just kept on asking me. I...
View ArticleThey will chop off his legs and make him a beggar
When a storm has passed, there is stillness not the usual. I felt sort of dazed. Like someone cleaning up the debris in aftermath around their home – a wheelbarrow blown over, a cluster of sticks and...
View ArticleYou have not failed, until -
HAPPY NEW YEAR ! Sincere regards ALL, & thank you for being there. I feel a lot of good vibe this year’s beginning as I enjoy my week off work, visiting plots in cyberspace – spaces for...
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