My pain belongs to me....

The pain is quite something, not near enough to pleasure but stimulating none the less. Strange the sting the sensations of deriding the flesh almost unbearable yet a conquest of how much can I bear? Pleasure is more than tolerable yet not always advocated, pain is an awareness of something unkind yet at times warranted for the sake of enabling a conscious awareness of dysfunctionality. At other times pain unwarranted boasts implications of an adverse offensive, a hostility to the flesh from a source not my own.


My pain I can put aside and even to flight but to conquer its effect relies on strength, mind and will. Symptoms masked reoccur randomly therefore the root causes need to be extracted discriminatively without supposition.

Pain is sharp, dull, tight, burning, pounding, agonising, stinging, throbbing, blunt, uncooperative, relentless, rawness and at times cruel ache. To wrestle with it causes more sensation to be still with it subdues it for a time. Momentary affliction is preferred, a swift measure of defeating pain is better than a drawn loathsome inexplicable suffering. I have dealt with the blows of excruciation but nothing like the formidable rejection from the ones you love or death and absence of these you love. A chasm of aching turmoil to the heart and the sickening knot in the pit of your stomach. Anguish and despair attack the fragile heart, riddled with disease of brokenness right to the soul. Recovery is long and hard, some never recover and the heart dies within a crushed chamber.

Pain is a sensation, a sensibility and a raw emotion, whilst pleasure is the very same....both the human condition!

I have Learned...

"As a Chef, I learned you eat with your eyes, as a Drummer I learned you play from your heart, as a Father I learned you sacrifice life itself, as a Husband I learned you love unconditionally, as a Writer I learned that language is dead until experienced and as a Photographer I learned I have seen the world but never observed it until now" ~ Rinaldo

The key...

She bent over instantly as her shoe had just kicked up a small amount of dust which then uncovered a tarnished something in the earth. It had caught her eye. She brushed the dirt to one side with her hand which revealed an old fragile key. Rusted and curled at one end rather large towards the other she picked it up carefully so as not to expose its fragility. A breath of gentle air blew against the key from her lips further revealing its coarse layers of age and rust. The key must have been many decades old and somehow lost from its lock, like a ship from the ocean........


The key ancient mesmerised her, she stared at it as she lay hold of it in a firm grasp. She pondered what secrets it held and who might have been the original keeper of the key. Had the previous owner lost the cherished secrets it secured or had they somehow now been revealed to the world from which they were hidden. Running home, desperate to find something the key could also lock and unlock her mind lay hold of all the memories and scraps of paper which had scribed keepsakes and unmentionable verse etched upon them. These would also now be hidden from the world and reserved as trinkets of sentiment, nothing demure and nothing dark, mere fantasy of a youth spent in solitude with the infrequent glimmer of a social intimacy seldom come, from children her own age.

The key... was a passage to another world, a world of mystery and hidden pleasures, a world of fantastic gesture in which her fantasies became all so tangible to her. As an only child she often confided in her diary and kept secrets too complex and detailed to share with another soul, but often childish nonsense to the rest of us!

The Key is of no consequence or value except to the beholder, for what is cherished and stored securely with lock and key is validated only by the heart ~ where secrets are locked and revealed, by the single turn of a key!

A Labour of Love!

"An excavated love is one that is not worth having, for in the dig does only one put forth enough labour to unearth it and then toils constantly to sustain a flawed love! But a love between two which has evolved from seed, grows and flourishes. Its beauty prospers and produces grand generations" ~ Rinaldo

"With too many regrets, my future years have I squandered" ~ Rinaldo