Write? I used to.

Not so long ago I felt like I knew how to write. I thought I knew how to make the words fly off the page and into the hearts of people willing to give a moment of their time to ingest my thoughts. I also used to think that I had to be sad, or…

You are not I.

My neighbors give me dirty looks – not the sexual kind. They stare at me with their distinct, stigmatizing expressions and I definitely feel the weight of their unfounded judgement on my shoulders. You would think, after more than a decade of being judged as someone that I am not, I would get used to…

Past not forgotten.

You’re out, because you were never in in the first place. You’d line up among the supposed intellectuals and fakers that parade the streets that never seem to develop fast enough, constantly serving as a reminder of a past not so long ago. A series of possibilities, stacked up against the forlorn walls of forgotten…

Cynical is a state of mind

As we rise from our beds each day and wonder about our social life, on the internet, we don’t realize that we’ve been living (for so long now) in one big plastic wrap of irony. We used to be a living, breathing, independent-thinking community. A society of self-righteous, sarcastic bastards thrown in with sepia-shade photographs…