This May hurt

They finally found him. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want to be found. They finally caught him after years of snooping around. Lots of shillings had been poured in the hope of getting him. They had gone round in circles, sticking their noses in malls and coffee shops. They had chased him across town, only to be told that he had left just minutes ago. They had come so close.

But now they found him. He was seated at a clothed table near the exit. He was in the shadows, as only where one would expect him to be–in the background, away from the center.Read More »

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May I?

I can’t write. I’m struggling again. That’s what my life seems to be all about these days. Struggling. Most times I’m penned into a corner in my room –sweating buckets, rushing deadlines.

The rest of the time I have my nose in a glass of vodka. And as I write this, I really can’t help but think back on the first day of May last year.Read More »

Made by Hand

This post has balls. A lot of balls.

Remember when I told you about my herpes infection, and that I had a festering wound on my lip, and that I was in so much pain that you should just wake me up when September ends? Well, I forgot to tell you about my balls.Read More »

About last week

On Sunday I woke up tired. My muscles were screaming. Fully clothed, wallowing in a swamp of my own sweat. It was 6am. I had sharp hunger pangs and blog post idea steaming in my head. And I thought, ah, si we’ll be home the whole day? Let’s work on it. But first, we eat.

So I went and had my usual, a banana and tea.

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