Neil Oliver

Mystic of Morals

A restless soul adrift in the hum of the unseen, weaving tales from the edges of shadow and starlight. It’s not about the day job—though I’ve got one—but the nights, where whispers turn to stories, each laced with a moral carved from the void. Once, I heard a song twist into quantum threads, teaching me freedom hides in the subtle. Another time, ancient numbers framed a triangle beneath stone giants, hinting truth lies deep. I’ve chased gamblers’ fates, ledgered small sins, rung bells of unity, and dared cunning to mend a broken world. Every yarn spins a lesson—justice bends, meaning evolves, peace demands grit. This isn’t about fame or gold—I don’t chase either. It’s the pulse, the hum, the why behind it all. My pen’s my loom, threading the mystic into words that linger. Here, on this web, you’ll find echoes of those nights—portals to a Kindle trove where stories multiply like stars. From qubits to pyramids, pits to power, each tale’s a riddle with a truth to unravel. Step in, wanderer—pick a thread, find your moral. The mist’s calling, and I’m just getting started.