When I was younger, I used to think I had all the answers. Now I feel like don’t even know the question – if there even is one. Very “Hitchhiker” of me. I guess I’ve always had a bit of…
Tag: Bambi
Escapism or a lack of purpose
I haven’t been writing much lately. Inspiration left me long ago to go fuck someone else into mediocre poetry or some bullshit paragraphs of gibberish no-one reads. In her place, the brain-dead nothingness of a purposeless life has made herself ever-present…
My biggest fear
I’m heading for a cliff’s edge where no bridges have been built. I worry, not to fall over, but to foolishly stand there looking over the drop. I’m on a pursuit for a path that not only feds the passing…
Growing Up – or the Freedom of not Giving a Shit
Suggested soundtrack: Somewhere I read that happiness’ name is “it’s not my problem”. It’s a cynical truth and I guess it is the last piece of childhood that dies: the belief that we matter, the hope we can alter the course of history,…
A perfect day hiking next to Mt. Marmolada
For about a week, Pandabear and Bambi came to visit. It was that pleasant peace that comes in the company of good friends. We decided that one night we should stay at a mountain refugio which turned out to be…
Returning Characters
In order to keep people in my life more or less anonymous yet known to themselves (ask if you think you might be one) everyone that features in hte stories are given a nickname. Some of the nicknames refer to…
Bellum omnium contra omnes
Armed with two 60 cm long green pillows, Bambi and myself walked through the tourist crowded streets of Barcelona. Fifteen minutes later feathers soared serenely in a “setting-sun”-atmosphere filled with battle cries, laughter and the numb sound of pillows-in-movement hitting…
Breaking the silence
On Mr. Posh Spice‘s request, I break a silence I had devoted to work and novel writing. Not being a man to ask: “how are you doing?”, he instead referenced the regular “emotional-status-report” he apparently view my blog as. During…