Science Fiction Novel

The context of 3d_love_pill_picture_166382economy has been rewritten. Happiness, in milligram measurements has replaced pounds sterling;  Eudaimonic – Entry dreams drive a dedicated citizenship; and life is about positivity. Set a foot in the negative, and they’ll know. 

Revolutionaries plot memory filled landscapes with deep feeling and base truths  – though their collective voice remains a mortal whisper within winds of Haptolian happiness.

Can they evoke dedication to the cause within the Immunites and coordinate the True Feelers; or will they be forced down by their two-dimensional peers, actively sustaining Contented Citizenship in unwavering Haptopic commitment?

One drug:  wonder drug.  One people:  wonderful people. One power;  won people.   
All hail Haptolia.



crowd mag words (2) HAPTINOL

(2,4,5–N-haptitoidynin- methylamphetamine) 

An empathogenic drug of the phenethylamine class. Widely known as the “happiness drug”. Colloquially, terms “Haptolia” & “Haptopic” imply state, & attitude or inclusion, respectively. Energy buzz; alert, ‘alive’, in tune with surroundings; sounds & colours more intense; feelings of arousal, euphoria, well-being, and welfare for others are significant characteristics[1] Criminalized in all countries, but some limited exemptions in place for advancement. Regulatory authorities in several global locations have approved scientific studies…2] …reported to be in close talks with Drugs Councils, DRDD and SKF…



Authentic Binge Drinker; Loving Daughter?


Call yourself authentic? I’ve got more bands than you.

Only been in 2001, and two oh-oh two?

What, you didn’t go to Goa; never seen Guatemala?

And your liver remains in full working order?

So, you haven’t drunk the tribe’s specialist vodka?

Wow, and you call yourself an authentic binge drinker?

I went to uni: pff, course I drunk the lager

And beer, and the bombs of enhanced Jägermeister.

What, you think because your wine was

Fortified, that you were binged to the slaughter?

No my friend, you are not an authentic binge drinker.

I was rushed to hospital as they pumped my stomach with sobriety based water

And led my mother up the hall, making her wish she were still a daughter.

No, you wannabe, you are no binge drinker.

My mother’s mother is dead, because like me,

She liked Outer-Mongolian, bush based tea

And enjoyed swigs of scotch whiskey with at least ten

Mixed up bennies.

But still my mother wishes she were a living daughter;

And still you call yourself an authentic binge drinker?

What, you haven’t been to festivals since ya was a tiny lil’ nipper?

Well my friend, just talk to my father.

It was he who showed me the grass of the gods and divine based, real liquor.

It was he who showed me the merit of smiling, and tolerance

In the face of intoxicated and tribal-brained, mortal grace.

But sadly,

He -like my mother’s mother- was an authentic binge drinker,

Regardless of his daughter.

So, with patterns to break,

My orphaned mother began splitting the guise in half.

She vowed to keep him

From dangerous drinking orders (hiding modal,

Blinkered bruises in perfecting her art),

Ensuring his straight became narrow,

And wagon finally boarded.

So, no my friend, this is not authentic binge drinking,

and I don’t envy your daily onslaught.

Now a member of Alcoholics Anonymous:

I  deliver weekly platters of sobriety based truth,

And my so-called friends jibe me in the heart,

With their arrogant superiority of that binge drinking ‘art’.

So, no my friend, you are not an authentic binge drinker;

You have just forgotten the truth of love

And the worth of being an honest and loving daughter.

So, as with false economy, here find my false apology,

Ironic, as it’s direct from my heart:

I’m awfully sorry,

I cannot  – will not – encourage

The arrogant superiority of your binge drinking farce.



 ~ Nonautobiographical ~

It was only au revoir…

Ted as a cat (6) - Feline Believer

Trans-species animals. Ted, Springer spaniel thinks he’s human; wants love and affection, but craves feline-eqsue independence. Except, for example, when terrifying carrier bags hang menacingly from tree branches. Said feline hopes disintegrate instantaneously with only safety being found at owner’s heels [which, despite experience, has resulted in more ted-and-owner face-plants than have been kept count!].

Hello all!

Just a post to firstly, apologise for the massively long silence; and secondly, to thank you all for not having upped and outed during said postlessness. Very much appreciated!

After a year and a half of unexpected gunk, am looking forward to catching up on everyone’s posting and life shenanigans!

….And given this is a boring, rather inconsequential post, thought it apt to lighten it with a rather inconsequential pic (for both the cat and dog lovers out there – if you hate animals, my apologies!).

S’good to be back.