Dear God

Now, this is not a prayer, neither a cry for help nor a cry for mercy, but a simple conversation where you don’t have to say a thing (as you never do anyway). You probably remember me praying to you at the age of twelve or thirteen, when I was still disillusioned, searching for who Read More …

La petite mort

I’m at Foyle’s café, sitting on an uncomfortable high chair, facing Chipotle. I fancy burrito, but I’m not in eating mode. I bought three DVDs. Numbing my little hunger with chamomile tea to calm down my stomach from today’s stress and unhealthy food consumption. My bra is too tight, I cannot breathe. What was I Read More …

Detached

The only time I’ve been writing was by hand in my black book, where I don’t make an effort to build anything within paragraphs. So, not having updated my blog within a month is a sign of complete failure. I had nothing to say to you, not even to myself in the last few weeks. Read More …