The French girl I was “seeing” came over for a couple of hours on Tuesday evening. “I wanna hear you play the guitar again,” she said; so I did. I stared at my clumsy fingers, as I sang my way through a few simple songs. She clapped when I finished, as the audience of an…
Read moreWriting life crisis
“What’s the point of writing if nobody can understand what you write?” I asked to this 19-year-old Dutch girl, annoyed by her concept of what “good writing” was. “Then you are not a real writer. Then you are just writing for somebody else, not for yourself,” she replied, with a winning smile on her face….
Read moreMacbook
I bought a Macbook. I don’t know, I think I just wanted to be like the writers you see on tv and movies. So this is, officially, the first thing I have ever written on a Mac. If it’s shit, you know why. If it’s great -although unlikely-, you also know why: I’m a talented…
Read moreBlah 10: The visitors
“I have to go to the gym,” I say, suddenly standing up from my chair. “This late?” my friend asks. “I’m still in time to pick up my daily free protein shake,” I reply. Not an absolute lie, but a lie, anyway. I have to get the fuck out of there, can’t stand it anymore….
Read moreBlah 09: Important
The days go by slowly. Slowly, as well, Anna vanishes from my mind. I won’t text her, because I wouldn’t know what to say after Saturday, and I don’t wanna bother her. She won’t write, maybe for the same reason, or just because “fuck it.” And these days will become weeks, and the weeks, months….
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