Meeting you, at that Indie concert where a local band covered Marc Broussard, and being enveloped in the blue haze of the lighting while looking at the dark beige of the cocktail in your hands gave me freedom from a society full of obscurantism, suspicions and superstitions. We were young, rebellious and carefree; so disintegrated […]Read more "Shades of the same song"
I’m a Kierkegaardian demon of despair with deep-seated hurt that manifests as rage. I’m a freak, locked in a cage of insecurities. I’m an android bleeding blue, with mangled wires and pupils shifting from ditch-water green to the fiercest orange. You push a button on your remote and expect me to say something silly or […]Read more "Androids and Electric Sleep"
The clip found its way to YouTube, and my friends in college showed it to others on their phones as if it was a video of a back-heel nutmeg by Ronaldinho. I was guilty too, simply because I shared in the excitement. Many years later, it haunted me. He knelt, reading out something they’d forced […]Read more "Men of perdition"
There’s something about her writing that brings me back. It isn’t a Fitzgerladean crescendo, slowly building up in the tender night, tugging at your heartstrings eloquently and ethereally. No, it’s sprinkled with sawdust, and rusty nails, but once you dig deeper – at the risk of getting injured – you’ll find a hidden gem with […]Read more "Innocence within the femme fatale"
When you said, “I can’t handle it anymore,” I realized that sorrow had penetrated your core and planted its talons there. It’s never good to hold so much sadness because it kills. What a burden God has placed on us! To strive for nothing; to fight only to lose in the end; to pray and […]Read more "Maybe tomorrow"