Tangled stories: Chapter 1
“Let me know if you need something and I’ll go and help you”, Continue Reading
It ain’t whatcha write, It’s the way atcha write it.” – Jack Kerouac
“Let me know if you need something and I’ll go and help you”, Continue Reading →
My belle is made up of art, that is, failures, shitty life’s growth… Continue Reading →
„Facebook to nie Tinder!”, Odpisała mi, przejmując się drobiazgiem. Ponieważ w kosmicznym pociągu wydarzeń, które doprowadziły mnie do kontaktu z nią, kwestia czy Facebook ma funkcję przesunięcia w prawo i w lewo była zupełnie nieistotna. Continue Reading →
They say that murder is the only legitimate theme in crime fiction; that anything else would fall short of the requirements for a good story. Continue Reading →
She stood, her back towards him, in a very ominous way. Continue Reading →
A rich man had everything: A big mansion, stables and a beautiful wife, but the thing he loved the most was his parrot. Continue Reading →
“Facebook is not Tinder!” she wrote back to me, getting overwrought over a trifle. Continue Reading →
Where’s the other? Continue Reading →
The thing I remember the most about my grandfather was the day when he walked in on me masturbating. Continue Reading →
The song resounded in his head when he woke up. A nostalgic feeling pervaded him. Continue Reading →