It’s nothing.

I’ve got nothing. The editor is open right in front of my eyes and I stare at the screen as I tear up because of the strain or maybe it’s just the existential dread making it’s way out. Love is in the air, sex is everywhere and both are overrated. There’s no point in writing…

Dear writers

Writers are weird. I wonder why every one of them thinks it’s only a woman that feels pain. She knew it, she did that, she hid this, she fought that Don’t men feel a thing? Have our sensory organs numbed down? Why do you associate pain with a gender when it’s the same for everyone?…

Where to?

Except for those street dogs in the suburb, loneliness loomed on this usually busy road. A few bikes went past me as I drove slow, soaking in the sunlight. It could’ve been a good day; everyday can be a good day, if only you could do something about it. On the left stood a bus,…

Ahem!

The cracked open lips that bleed tell you no tales of the coldness that dried them up. The dirt in my nails decorate fingers with the untidiness of life. Why do you bother yourself with how tasteless I am with the clothes I wear? Don’t they speak for themselves? The shoes don’t match, man, the…

How does it feel?

How does it feel to have the same routine everyday? You wake up, go out, come back home and repeat the same until you lost track of the last time you were happy with yourself? You have a phone but no one calls, there's internet but no one texts, there's YouTube and you watch either…

Mornings like these.

My head aches from all that vodka induced whirry sensation yet my heart desires more. Enough is enough says my mind but something inside me says, "Go on." I hear people talking to me, I know I'm responding but what the hell am I even saying? One thing's for sure, secrets are being revealed, 'cuz…