Conversations created in zeros and ones,

Something’s lost.

Something’s wrong.

No subconscious signals,

No mirror neurons,

Just respond.


I threw a stone at a man that struck him

In the eye.

As much as he tried to hide it, inside myself

I cried.

Sparked in a single moment’s transaction,

A frozen moment of reaction.

She is born from the pain of universal truth.

I wake in sweats remembering,

The stain of guilt that sticks to me.


Arrested by anonymity,

Is the growth of…

I threw a stone in the dark.

I didn’t hear it fall.

As much as I tried to hear,

I don’t think it hit the floor.

Face-to-face is now replaced,

New life…

Naked in the wood.

And as trees fall in a digital wood,

They know not what they could.


The Broken Are The Kind

The broken are the kind
Who feel the pain in life
They try to pull your strife
Inside they feel the knife

The broken are the wise
Who wear a smart disguise
They make your spirit rise
Inside they shrink in size

The broken are the warm
Who feel the constant storm
They hold you ‘til the dawn
Inside their self is worn

The broken are the bright
Who make the crisis light
They joke to end the night
Inside their head’s in flight.

The broken are the kind
Who make you feel at ease
But if you swam their sea
You’d call the broken “Me”.

Written by Randall Evans

Invisible Pain

Invisible pain is rarely invisible. It comes in the form of slammed doors, raised voices or the sounds of a speeding engine traveling far away.

The thought may surface that making logic of emotional hurt is what does the most damage. For if we had no mind, we wouldn’t mind. It’s the process of attempting to make sense of a situation that has no solution that drives the knives deeper into the chest. It’s these logical pathways that plants the seeds of frustration.

The never ending search for an answer to illogical situations drives one insane. Every internal  argument starting with the phrase, “I just don’t get it!”

Solutions to this blackhole of despair is what should interest us, but it doesn’t. Depression and anger, anger most of all, is addictive. Exhausting, yes, but addictive. As I write this with the tone of a pretensions upperclass professor who has never experienced real pain, my fingers shake with uncontrollable ferocity that results from uncontrolable emotion. I like it.

Your blood boils. You feel like riping up everything in your life and bringing it all back to zero. If anyone dare look at me, their blood with pave the streets beneath me!


Press the pause button for fuck’s sake.

Solutions is what we should be interested in. The logical solution is that there is no solution.

Indeed, back to professor tone.

To make logic of emotional pain is illogical, but the logic that it’s illogical is logical. Does this open up new ways of coping with the situation? How do we act?

I guess we are forgetting the main problem; Humans are illogical creatures. Illogical creatures must make illogical decisions and experience illogical pain and pass that pain off to others.

Where does this leave us? Do we have any choice in our reactions? Are we snowflakes? Unique from each other in appearance only, but doomed to freeze and fall without any say in the matter? I’d rather melt.

Sometimes I wish to react on instinct and go out in a blaze of glory, but I (think) I know better. I know the boring way.

Put as much time ahead of your reaction as possible. As you can see, this time sparked the initial question. Does creating logic around an emotional pain do more harm than good?

Perhaps internalising creates self pain, externalising creates pain in others. Either way, the pain must be felt somehow.

Did you feel it through this post? I wonder…

– By Randall Evans.


Once upon a time, the stories weren’t so far away… And their heart were even closer.

If you ever look up from your newspaper or phone on the train, you will notice that everyone’s head moves in the same pattern. They all drift along with motion of the train.

Inertia: a property of matter by which  an object continues in its existing state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line, unless that state is changed by an external force.

The train comes to its regular stop at the station. A few people get off, a few people get on. After a 23 second delay, people start to look at their watches.

7 seconds more…

“Stand clear, doors closing.”

A sigh of relief is shared by the passengers…

But, the train doesn’t move.

What could only be described as ‘A junky’, starts to swear under his breath. A young student looks over at him from the corner of her eyes.

“Attention passengers,” The speakers don’t have to be so loud, “We are currently waiting for a signal to change, we should be off shortly.”

It’s odd, people that read books on the train always seem to stop reading when there is a delay. They stop and stare out the window.

The landscape never changes. The train never moves.

A girl gets out her phone.

Disease: A disorder of structure or function in a human, animal, or plant, especially one that produces specific symptoms or that affects a specific location and is not simply a direct result of physical injury:

“The train is delayed…. I don’t know… I’ll try and get off…”

The train doors open.

“Attention passengers, we may be here for a long time, so we have opened the doors if you would like to get out. We apologize for this inconvenience. We are just waiting for the police to give the all-clear as a bodily object has obstructed the train ahead of us.”

A small frown forms on the few passengers who have nowhere to go.

“A bodily object…”

The disease spreads. More people get out there phones and stand on the train platform. Peak hour is no time for the trains to stop running. People want to get home to their families or have a drink with their friends.

A staff member of the rail network talks to some people outside. They have no new information.

“They have no idea how long it will take, can you just come and get me?”

Ignorance used to be bliss.

“Yeah, I’m going to be late. Well… Look… I understand that….”

But humankind has evolved.

“Really? No one can come and get me?  I’ve had a really long day!”

Apathy is bliss.

The train doesn’t move, and neither do the people.

At the next station rests a body upon the track. No more pain. No more suffering. No more life.

Once upon a time, we weren’t so far away… And our hearts were even closer.

– By Randall Evans.