The sensation of the uncontrollable muscle contraction that rushed over my skin as a water wave surprised me in its expected lack of brutality. Days of postponing a meeting that could, if not would, send a heart attack from nervous…
Tag: Mr. Broccoli
Escapism or a lack of purpose
I haven’t been writing much lately. Inspiration left me long ago to go fuck someone else into mediocre poetry or some bullshit paragraphs of gibberish no-one reads. In her place, the brain-dead nothingness of a purposeless life has made herself ever-present…