Wednesday, March 30, 2011  

Sun is red; moon is cracked


I have of late - but wherefore I know not - lost all my mirth; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.


Stress is a killer, and it creeps up on you like a ninja. It is also one of those afflictions that no one admits to having, no one wants to admit they can’t handle the trials and tribulations of life at the sharp end of the rat race, and no matter how many times you say you aren’t in the race, you are.

So you get home after work, all tense and wound tighter than a tight thing, what do you do? Booze, comfort eat, kick the cat, cigarettes or weed? Try this instead….

Get a milky drink, Horlicks or chocolate will do.

Fire up you puter, turn on the sound and open two tabs in your favourite browser.

Go here in one tab, and here in the second.

Sit back in your chair and just listen.

If you want to you can try belly breathing and guided imagery to just tip you over the edge. But I guarantee you will be chilled.

As you sit in your state of nirvanic euphoria, your mind may wander to places you haven’t been for a while, like old films or places……



What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me— nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

| posted by Simon | 10:29 pm | 0 comments
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