Pre-spring nervousness

I have become an excellent spammer. I never knew I was so brilliant at it. You get so much freaking attention, and I’ve always dreaded attention. There’s another reason why I bothered keeping the bloody student online journal alive, but I won’t tell. It doesn’t matter anyway. Distraction is always good. I’ve always hated dealing Read More …

My room

Writing exercise – seminar / 19.01.2011 My room in halls is big. I have the biggest and quietest one in this hallway.  I’m also lucky that I don’t face the main road, but I can still hear the sirens. Last week I heard a loud crash. The whole floor vibrated. It sounded like a robot Read More …

Chronic delirium

It doesn’t matter anymore. Ambiguity is my January friend. Where are you rabbit, pack your bags and “hopp, hopp!” I’ve had enough of the tiger year. Stripy cats smell like gutter, more in need of anger management than me. Fucking conceited creatures. Even though I don’t drink alcohol, I think I suffer from chronic delirium; Read More …

The kitten

He sings about the old familiar sting. Up till now, I haven’t forgotten how it feels. Last night’s splinter in my leg was a perfect reminder, and walking past a bike shop made me think of B. The incompetence of this city got me home late. It’s bright now, and I don’t feel tired. I Read More …