The Writer writes. The Writer fucks. The Writer writes about fucking. But he also thinks about the neighbors. “Fuck the neighbors,” his new girlfriend says. He shrugs and keeps thrusting, as if he were trying to dig a well between her legs, seeking the Fountain of Youth. They both moan, naked and sweaty on his…
Read moreBlah 03: Marie… yet again
I’m throwing at her all I’ve got. “Don’t push this guy away just because you are scared. At least give him a try, or you’ll always regret it… Life’s like a primary school contest: you’ll get a golden star just for trying.” She laughs, with a sad undertow. “I should write that on my blog,”…
Read moreBlah 02: STD
The nurse comes with two long cotton swabs. She makes me deep-throat the first one and then asks me to pull down my pants. She forces the second one down my urethra. It hurts like a motherfucker. “Now we need a blood sample,” the nurse says, the tip of my dick still stinging. The other…
Read moreBlah 01: Heaven
“You are all I need,” sings Tom Yorke over my speaker, as I try, for the third time today, to put down the word on a blank page, while struggling with a couple of beers being digested in my stomach. “I should still go to the gym,” I think, and eat some dark chocolate to…
Read moreRetirement
Fuck everything. That’s the mood now. The fucking “fuck everything” mood. Remind me not to get a long nap next time I fuck to exhaustion, please. Thank you very much. “Why do you wanna be a writer?” asked Anna, wearing nothing but some sexy pink undies and a bathrobe. “Wow…” I said. I’m not a…
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