The most difficult thing about leaving the gym this early is the smell of teacakes baking in the bakery opposite

Very few things as frustrating as watching a package traverse the USPS network

Went out to the shops in my slippers last night. Is this middle-age?

To me, it seems that there must be something on the other side. We are all told that truth is merely a compulsion that can reliably be derived from some observable phenomenon. We forget that truth is no tool, it is the hook upon which we hang our deeds and the bed from which we rise each day. To assume that death is the end is to assume that our being extends no further than the physical substrate that carries us. This assumption does not account for the way in which we experience being alive, nor does it sit comfortably aside the fact that we are not all able to comprehend the way in which our being manifests itself from the flesh and bone that binds us. I believe that those gaps in our understanding are still wide enough to cast doubt on such compulsions. I believe that those gaps are yet wide enough for our souls to fit through and drift onwards into some new realm
Vessel