Hang around my favourite social network, the ever-irritating Facebook, for long enough and you’ll discover a preponderance of pages entitled I Fucking Love…, amongst which my favourite is I Fucking Love Science. It’s one of the few good reasons to continue to use said website instead of just living one’s online life completely on Twitter.
Since…er…I fucking love the I Fucking Love… phenomenon, and since I fucking love science fiction, I hereby bring you a humble little homage to both.
I’ve added a blogroll to the sidebar, additional to the longer one here. I emailed some readers when I un-privatised my first post here – ie. when I started to blog at AtMoM properly – in April, asking that they not add it to any blogroll they may themselves have, as I was scared of the ramifications of any visibility. I’m not now. Sod it; I have nothing to hide. So, if you’d like to add it to your list, please do go ahead 🙂 Don’t feel an obligation to do so, but the option is open to you.
This is the second post in a series I am writing exploring the use of guided affective imagery as a psychotherapeutic device. Each post is/will be, broadly speaking, a free-writing exercise based on my experiences of this technique in my own therapy sessions. The first post in the series can be found here.
The door is open, and I can now see inside the house. There is a corridor – well, a hall I suppose, but it feels more like a corridor, as it’s not particularly homely – stretching out in front of me. It’s a musty brown in colour, though it feels as if I am looking at it through a lens of grey. It doesn’t feel frightening as such, but there is something about it that urges caution in me.
What leads off from it? the voice enquires.