Browsing All Posts filed under »Books«

On dead days and my Franny Glass phase

December 26, 2016


“I’m just sick of ego, ego, ego. My own and everybody else’s. I’m sick of everybody that wants to get somewhere, do something distinguished and all, be somebody interesting. It’s disgusting.” “It’s everybody, I mean. Everything everybody does is so — I don’t know — not wrong, or even mean, or even stupid necessarily. But […]

The Ophelia in Us

November 23, 2015


Ophelia, she’s ‘neath the window; for her I feel so afraid. On her twenty-second birthday, she already is an old maid. To her, death is quite romantic; she wears an iron vest. Her profession’s her religion; her sin is her lifelessness, And though her eyes are fixed upon Noah’s great rainbow, She spends her time […]

Holden Caulfield is probably the soulmate I never had

August 4, 2013


This is not some hipster shit, I promise. Just the thoughts of a sad, screwed up girl about a sad, screwed up fictional character.

Loneliness and solitude: just one gig, ONE gig, please?

February 2, 2013


Last week, Friday in particular, my self-esteem got hit by a sixteen-wheeler truck. It was about time, too. I wasn’t feeling depressed lately and this change in routine was starting to scare me. I was starting to think that I was going to pull off a Donnie Darko and move to a parallel universe until […]