I’m standing in a Gothic Cathedral with its arches, pillars and stained-glass windows, comprehending how Lilliputian and inconspicuous I am. All my life I dreamt of power, control and fame, but I now realize that I’m simply a journeyman looking for an upset. When you’re young, you dream of swords, shields and combat, and usurping […]Read more "Acquiescence"
Jeremy knew everything. He knew that Noam Chomsky viewed morality as either being a miracle or something innate like language. He knew that Emil Cioran heralded torment-fueled subjective experiences, and he knew all about George Kelly’s flexible personality theory based on changing personal constructs. Bryce despised Jeremy because he was a know-all. But then again, […]Read more "The know-all"
I stood at the edge of the precipice and looked at the meadows below but didn’t see lush greens or rich browns, I only saw shades of the dullest grey and wondered if I should plunge and let that fog of despair enwrap me and have its victory. After all, I’ve never lived; I’ve only […]Read more "Tentative"
A utilitarian Descartes: I am, therefore I think A modernist Descartes: I think, therefore I think I am? A postmodern, millennial Descartes: I think, therefore I’m not A postmodern, Generation Z Descartes: I am, therefore I’m not A middle-aged, crisis-ridden, trapped-in-an-existential-loophole Descartes: I think to think I am, but am I or not? A Puritanical […]Read more "Descartes"
I’m just a lonely shit, and all I do is smoke, get fat, drink cheap, sediment-ridden wine, take my antidepressants, drink my cough syrup and trip on a downer now and then. I live in a lonely, shitty apartment in an overcrowded neighborhood where the traffic flits around like mosquitoes; where people have lives and […]Read more "Blue"
Hey you, I just listened to the recording you sent me last Wednesday. I’m sorry it took me so long. As you already know, I’m a tortured, unemployed artist, struggling to both find inner peace and make a dime out of these dishonest lines I peddle. Having said that, I think this is the most […]Read more "A letter to someone"
The beef-eating Sadhus, Sundar and Bundar were lynched. – Anonymous Anonymous’s crisp, concise, lucid, pragmatic style is like petrichor after the boisterous farting of the neo-jazz postmodern novels. No discordant trombones, no horrisonant, screeching trumpets playing that sharp C. The beef-eating Sadhus is just a to-the-point, in-your-face micro-novel. – The New Guardian Anonymous’s exploration of […]Read more "Reviews for the beef-eating Sadhus"