For the love of writing

I haven’t written in quite some time now. And every time I need to answer that cruel question, “what do you do”, I feel like dying. I don’t know what to say anymore. I do not write. How can I call myself a writer? All I do is sit in front of the screen, scroll …

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Pretense

That one word to end the meanings of all words; words that do not stand a chance in front of the façade this one word entails. Every truth, all ingenuity, all graciousness is useless when faced with the intricate web of all the shiny mendacities this word so effortlessly weaves. Such is the cruelty of …

Memory

My memory is a curse I shall never be able to get rid of. Too many injustices for me to completely forget. Too many unfounded biases for me to endure; Now.

About an unbirthday

My whole life, I have been plagued with fears, doubts and delusions of various kinds (mostly of the negative sort). I must confess that I have found most of those to be very unpleasant and haven’t yet quite adjusted to their unwelcome presence in my life and mind (since we’re concerning ourselves mainly with that …

Introvert (Not?)

For as long as I can recall, my mind has been convincing me of my inability to mingle with my peers. I am not known as a warm person, rather an emotionally distant being of sorts. I do happen to be acquainted with a lot of people, few of which I even have had the …