P-chan's messy head
My sleep hyperhidrosis comes from my three daily large cups of Tetley’s tea (5 years ago, it used to be 7). All I had today was herbal tea and hot water. We’ll see whether I’ll go through another sweating session tonight. I was tired during midday, and now a light headache seems to come and Read More …
I hear tiresome laughter. I’m dehydrated and feel pressure in my right kidney. I see an attractive guy throw a glance at me when saying “tschüß.” I taste blood between my teeth. You can never be careful with dental floss, not when you have impatient, nervous and angry hands. They have no sense of precision, Read More …
I can’t think of anything more complicated than the attempt to connect with other people. It’s easier talking with faces that emerge from your bedroom wall at night time, except that you feel scared when you don’t know what they want. My dreams have been weird; I can’t see anything. I only hear people talk Read More …
Disorganization has never been a friend of mine. Still, only now do I feel that I’ve become the personification of incompetence. I’m socially inept, and I scandalously fall for every third man that walks past. Who am I? Hesse? Observations make you paranoid after a while. People have wondered why I’m good at assessing other Read More …
(Letter to Ellen) “Ellen, oh Ellen, I wonder why on earth am I worthy of drinking with the skeletons in your closet. Did I say skeletons? I’m sorry, there is just one – a bad one, and he has almost consumed all my beer in the fridge. You can say he is a demonic fellow, Read More …
Laurie was standing half-naked in front of the bathroom mirror, blow-drying her hair. Her son Vincent was making noises. “Mum! MUM!” He pulled at Laurie’s underwear so that she accidentally hit her head with the blowdryer. The string of her underwear slapped hard against her hip. “For God’s sake, Vince! Watch it!” There was no Read More …
Even when saying that I’ll only sleep a maximum of seven hours, I know it won’t work, not when you have a terrible headache triggered by fake smiles, simulated enthusiasm and Heaney’s Finders Keepers. Old lame poetry before bedtime is worse than a children’s lullaby. I slept well for eleven hours last night, except that Read More …