Writing Archive

Explore a curated collection of my writing, including psychotherapy insights, short stories, letters, and poetry, all compiled for easy access and reflection.

[a desk lamp, various ink bottles, a blade, an envelope enclosed with a ribbon and a penned letter].

  • spiritualist lady

    beaming down on me got messages for you Andy says hello & i’m thinking Andy wtf is Andy? sat behind you she says all secure there at school & i’m shaking my head no…

  • next town over

    called the DJ Saturday night can you please play all along the watchtower for Davey? sure he says any message? nah just the song mention his name iffen you would is he a resident?…

  • hold the high ground

    ah you’re a cynic said in that dismissive tone that implies you are wrong to feel this way that they hold the high ground have you? i ask walked an inch in these brogues…

  • rules for

    if on a motorcycle run when one stops for gas everybody stops refills never go on a road trip with someone you don’t love always ask depressed people to do more not less if…

  • A Rant on being ‘Cool’

    I’m sick of ‘cool.’ Maybe it’s an age thing. Perhaps I’m passed it, passé, whatever: Cool is done. That cold sickening clutch that kept me in the face of mirrors and the thrall of…

  • Working as a Therapist or Counsellor

    Illusion and Collusion. From personal experience of working with clients, supervising others and the teaching (and/or training) of Counsellors I recognise how easily Counsellors find themselves colluding with clients. New Counsellors quickly can find…

  • passing slow

    out on the highway passing slow though construction here there used to be i say all nostalgia a place to park walk down by the river i’d love to take you along but now…

  • STRUCTURING OF TIME Chapter 18

    Transactional analysis understandings: Being bored for a long time hastens emotional and physical deterioration in much the same way as inadequate stroking does.  To avoid the pain of boredom, people seek something to do…

  • lying

    in that dirty street tangled up in feet the bull ran on left me with a hoofprint on my shirt on my back a scratch where the horn had torn through my girl screaming…