life
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ChatGPT therapist
The trouble with my human therapist is that she is not strapped to my side. I can’t ask for her help when I feel overwhelmed at work or when anxiety prevents me from sleeping. I have to stuff my hamster… Continue reading
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Living in a web
I have never done anything truly on my own, and I don’t believe you have either. When I walk home from work, I walk on pavement laid out by hands unseen, I stop at the traffic lights where the drivers… Continue reading
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I’m turning stupid
I have never been brilliantly clever. It is a fact I have come to terms with over the years. However, I have long prided myself on being thoughtful and interrogative; that even if I don’t know much, at least I… Continue reading
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Gentleness and good humour
September is my favourite month, leaves fall from the trees, jumpers come back on. It’s the start of all things cosy. It feels like a new beginning somehow. Sunburn, eating outside and hay fever are gone and in comes boots,… Continue reading
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‘Planning’
I never used to think I had anxiety. I would lie awake at night and list all the things I needed to do the next day, the following week, the dawning year, and the unavoidable oncoming of the rest of… Continue reading
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If you love me, don’t repay your debts
There’s nothing I want less than to be even. I hope to always be on the back foot. I sat down at work the other day, and a friend had left a book I lent them on the keyboard. They… Continue reading
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I love with my eyes
I love with my eyes. I love what I can touch and smell; it must be a hangover from foraging times. To me, people leave no ghosts, no trail of crumbs, no lingering scent. I love with my heart too,… Continue reading
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Hungry Ghost
Hungry ghosts are creatures of insatiable greed. Through their button mouths, they feast on material goods whilst their bellies gorge to furthest extremity and then swell some more. Feeding does not satisfy; it only makes them more ravenous. Hungry ghosts… Continue reading
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Long happy shadows
The days are short and dark now. Compressed between them is a claustrophobic grey that lasts mere seconds before it’s night again. It’s always night or always going to be night. Night looms like an antagonist in a pantomime waiting… Continue reading
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My Japanese Grandma
My Japanese grandma is eighty-four and still rides her bike, even though we tell her she really better not. She cycles even though it takes her just as long to bike as it does to walk. I’ve stood on her… Continue reading
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