Writing is not for the weak. It is not to be deleted but shared. Share it with yourself, read it over and over again until its twisted… Read more “Ramble 127: What writing is all about”
Tobacco stained face Yellowed teeth, stink of old neglect Fat fat cheeks, like a little girl That you are. Fat and thin, short and oddly shaped Little… Read more “Ramble 126: Fat and Thin”
London bridge is fallin’ down Fallin’ down, fallin’ down London bridge is fallin’ down My fair homies. No brown hands to pull it back up Pull… Read more “Ramble 125: London bridge is fallin’ down”
roses are red violets are blue they are all “dead”: corpses lying in the room.
Hello, hello dear friends! Sorry for sounding like sex and the city’s Charlotte high on Samantha’s Viagra. I want to get a tattoo and more specifically this… Read more “Ramble 123: 5 reasons why snow leopards are my spirit animals”
It often seems so weird that one key of Ctrl+C carries the 1 million words we may have written. The thrill of cancelling the word document after… Read more “Ramble 122: Trust.”
In the warmest blues of blue of a flower– carefully painted on a white ensemble of a chest of drawers, I saw childhood. In the color dabbed… Read more “Ramble 121: A Proustian moment”