Stream of Conscious

Square Routes

I like to write and think about the little things.  I can’t help but think that there are endless avenues that lead towards a more satisfying moment, hour, or even day.  They are small little details that pack a big… Read More ›

Stream of Words

Stream of conscious. Streams are a conscious thought, now. I used to collect tadpoles with my brother. I used to pretend the lazy water turned into rapids and my tadpoles were saved from impending death-by-rock-and-water. Just maybe, I saved them…. Read More ›

Fulham Myself

By George, it’s George. Yes. This is me walking.  Walking with my headphones on.  The streets of Fulham resemble the scene in front of me.  The resemblance is strong, because it is the streets I speak of that disappear behind… Read More ›