Good Morning. Goodbye. #bionicanadian @bionicanadian Out another pair of liveried gilded glass doors that has stood through centuries worth of comings and goings. Reduced to no more than a pair of tiny footsteps crossing into the twilight of a new day, holding nothing but the certainty of loss. Every high speed mile puts distance to the dreams that packed themselves between white silk and black lace, uninvited. Endings owe no augury to the living, though the shade of wintry lighting subtly unveils sun is dying. Darkness isn't my friend nor my foe but the absence of my you nightmare of finding and losing all the versions you choose to be, without me.

#writemap This entirely unimaginative desire To become stardust again Wander through the dark void In particles so miniscule None can #break further apart This entirely unrealistic desire To have resilient dreams Held in my own hands Never missing the absence Of your gentle touch This entirely delusional desire Me waiting for a version of you Only ever lived In me

Barrel Rolls #vss365 #bionicanadian @bionicanadian I saw you in the highlands, diving off the misty peaks doing barrel rolls where shadow skies kiss the granite #mountains. Your onyx feathers blending against the rock face, no one but I saw your acrobatics. No one but I stood, mesmerized by that wild sense of freedom. That was many a moon ago. Bottle green lowlands have changed clothes to glorious fire and rust since. I've been mostly stuck in the mirrors and glass jungle trying to hear my own voice, waiting for fate to call my name freedom, too. Not many signs show that it is in the cards. Not with a livelihood chasing 25 hour days that continue to be the slim thread of purpose And doubly not when every free moment is a nightmare of craving a heart that has no room for mine After all, what good is freedom sans purpose? What is freedom if free moments break me more than busy ones? ...without the will to do barrel rolls across the skies, what does it matter what fate calls me?

Sky On My Sleeve #vss365 #bionicanadian @bionicanadian A sky like this deserves all my attention. blue and white, as common as one can write. And yet, this is anything but common in this little island in the middle of the gray seas. Particularly in these times of changing seasons. The way the sun lights up the #clouds in a thirty degree angle right now, makes them sing. I think of people with sun-kissed eyes that navigate dark waters without drowning in them. The way they know how to ring fence trouble in the far edges of their mind so they may illuminate the lives of those standing in front of them. It's an art I wish I'd mastered. I too might've earned the claims to an enigma of wonder if I had. Unfortunately, I wear my day on my sleeve. Or rather, the sky wears my day splashed all across its vastness. There's no escaping the thunderheads and pelting rains when my heart cries. Doesn't matter what my face wears. If you want to know how I am, just look up at the sky. Now you know why it wouldn't stop raining all through Tuesday night when I missed you... and why the sky is blue and clouds are golden white, this autumn afternoon. Now you know how a few kind words from you sets the weather for the millions that call this city home.

Beauty #vss365 A nebula makes the most beautiful graveyard in this universe. A luminous #bequest to the midnight velvet of the void for making space for it to live a star, burning bright all its days. But beauty is in the beholding. Human mind that assigns color, where it is merely a wavelength of radiation to all else, craft our spectacular observations. To the midnight void, nebulae are mining grounds for matter to birth new stars. A simple functional element in a not so simple cycle of redistributing energy. Beauty is but a side effect only we are privy to. Neither what was, nor what will be is a choice. To stand in wonder and perceive the miracle we are, being privileged to grasp beauty as no other can and infuse purpose to an ordinary clockwork universe, is however a choice. It is hard to die when that most astounding of choices is what one has to give up. 📸 NGC 6302 / NASA (Butterfly Nebula)

Christmas Gift #bionicanadian @bionicanadian the armchair faces the crackling fire. wind outside knocks softly. warm yellow light washes across the room while dancing shadows play hide and seek with life. it is not Christmas yet. The two stockings hanging are obvious only because they are new in an otherwise well loved room. I can't see a Christmas tree. But it must be somewhere there in the room spreading cheer. It has to be. It was my one wish I've asked of the universe every night, month after dwindling month. When I catch sight of you finally, I'm certain it has come true. Your slate blue eyes have the twinkle back as you twirl her around and catch her in a bear hug. Her dark curls catching the gold of the fire. The sound of her squealing giggles rises to the ceiling as you nuzzle her neck, mix with a muffled rumble coming from somewhere deep in your chest. It's time for me to go. Universe granted my wish. You are happy. This sight across space the winter solstice granted is its Christmas gift to me. To see you alive, full of life, as before, once more. Wind outside picks up. It's broken lament sounds like my silence still learning to let you go

“How can you be happy in this world? You have a hole in your heart. You have a gateway inside you to lands beyond the world you know. They will call you, as you grow. There can never be a time when you forget them, when you are not, in your heart, questing after something you cannot have, something you cannot even properly imagine, the lack of which will spoil your sleep and your day and your life, until you close your eyes for the final time, until your loved ones give you poison and sell you to anatomy, and even then you will die with a hole inside you" - The Ocean At The End Of The Lane, Neil Gaiman @Tetrametracall1 Robert, this book uou recommended is 🤯...

Physics of Us #FinishThePoem #vss365 We were the kind of quiet that fills a room even in complete darkness when all the senses have shut down No, we are not chemistry More a function of physics Overlapping electromagnetic fields Rearranging charged particles you to me Long before skin brushes pebbled skin Long before my breath warms your throat's hollow lips beg to memorize Long before my teeth graze the soft cartilage of your ear Every part of you know every whisper of me Even if you were blind and me deaf When you sit dazed on the edge of your bed Breaking out the mental math of which barbie doll or nightingale could stand in for me this night Tell me, my favorite stranger ...when you've had me in the quiet across the room, what #reprieve are you chasing in distance keeping me at arms length

Hope & Flowers #vss365 Content might be too strong a word to paint me. Calm might be too weak. Today falls between words, threading through the open spaces left in language that never needed definition. I've not needed definition either. Though at times, life would've been more stable to know where, how, to whom I too belonged. Not finding answers might not be the #reprieve I had hoped for. But it has been a blessing that make me wait for every sunrise with new eyes, even when the sunsets play Russian roulette in the waiting. I don't know where you are, who you are, or whether you are anything more than a figment of my loneliness never meant for the physical reality. But today, as I walk these ancient steps worn by many a thousand feet, I am near content in holding on to the illusion that the universe will not fail me. Perhaps this is the lightness of hope. It won't give me wings. But might build me gils so I may not drown in unshed tears that haven't yet mastered the art of not missing you.

#vss365 I carve a nook in the sky Place you there Among stars and moons and a thousand suns Where I too can adore you Craft a porcelain tiled roof between us Flowers and cheer my face to you #purify your view Of the million tiny moments I can't help but miss you

#WriteMap I count my blessings in front of the mirror The laugh lines that haven't entirely set yet The twinkle that hasn't entirely died yet The fingers that haven't lost the habit of tucking my own hair behind the ear yet I am many things soft, and real, and strong in unequal parts #becoming an intentionally simpler and unpredictably complex version from every yesterday There is so much I don't know Many times more I may never know But I know I'm grateful nonetheless In no small part for having met you Heard your voice Seen the world through your eyes For all that I am, I am also fully aware I cannot be all that you want. Not this lifetime, at least. So if I give you space after a good morning or seem too quick to bid a goodnight, you now know that I'm here always... grateful for you in my life accepting of my place in yours

Center of The Universe #bionicanadian @bionicanadian It happens everytime I get on a plane. Sometimes, even trains and automobiles. There was a point in time when I thought it was because of vertigo. Any mode of human invented fast speed travel brings vertigo, after all. In reality, it's genetic memory protecting the original design from being corrupted. But apparently, vertigo is not the fundamental culprit. There are meds for it. I carry at least two types everywhere now. And it still happens when I get on a plane, train, etc. It's this despairing sense of being incomplete that manifest itself like a chest pain. No, not the adrenaline induced anxiety response. Something less chemical and more basic. It doesn't make me dizzy anymore (thanks to the 2 types of meds!) but it leaves me hollow the further the little blue dot gets on the google map from the starting point of the trip. Today I noticed that funny enough, it's not the blue dot that moves. Have you noticed it stays static on the screen? It's the map itself that moves! I know you think I'm a narcissist that believes the entire universe revolves around me. You are not entirely wrong. I am the center of the universe. The map moving under the blue dot is proof enough. Of course, the part that escapes most is that we are all blue dots. Just watch the map correct itself everytime you move too. Despite being the center of the universe, the chest pain is still very real. And while the blue dot stays static on the screen, it also shrinks in size everytime I leave somewhere. When I left Porto today it shrank very little. So was the hollowness inside. Most cities that's the case. But I doubt the change will be that minor when I leave Glasgow in a couple of days though. For some confusing reason Scotland has a knack for keeping most of my soul. Perhaps the absolute center of all the universe is here, somewhere near a lighthouse under the clear blue sky...

#vss365 Another morning, I place the particles of me that had always been meant for you in a fragile silence apart from the rest. I have never been the loud or the insistent. Neither exuberant nor particularly courages to place odds on me. Yet us remains a flickering candle in that fragile silence holding the spark I cannot #renounce. In case you decide to walk in from the dark one day, to sit by me so we may both learn of eternal fires. ...and good mornings that will finally mean I'm home

#writemap #vssromance Hope is a cold companion Under the white sheets Stars burn far in the void Herald the universe too is waiting to die You dance, you speak, you breathe Somewhere else to someone else's heartbeat Harvest moon plays #golden witness Warm in the reflected glow of coming #sunrise I refuse to tell her I'm cold I can master missing you on my own

Clockwork Curse #bionicanadian @bionicanadian It's become obvious that I'm in dire need of a miracle. Or at least some good old fashioned magic. The problem you ask... simple. Every night I'm woken up three hours after midnight. It's a clockwork curse, I tell you. I visited the Gandalf-ish elderly gentleman in the hood who carries the wooden staff. His merch was magical but has proven inadequate to fight the deep baritone that pulls me out of my sleep. Last Friday morning I even dreamt of the owner of the voice when I finally fell asleep again. He was a sight to behold, if I say so myself. So I made a decision to make my own miracle. Creative really. I'm just going to go where the clock is further forward. So 3am here is will be at least breakfast time there. Then you, my mischievous baritone, can be my kindly wake up call. Now only if I knew you. I'd come home then. Maybe even wake you at 3am with more than words...