In the air, the smell of orange zest, cedarwood and cashews forms out of nothing but my own appetite. It’s not a real smell. It’s not an escaped soul of some combination of ingredients I have spread out in front…
Tag: Don Quijote
Wants and Needs: and the Smack Operator
(Instead of Music: Confusion) In a panic, I woke up with one thought, and one thought only: “I need to get my retirement pension in order!“ Out of all the absurd things I wake to, this was the ultimate cookie…
Every Robin needs a Batman
For some time I have used the phrase “Every Batman needs a Robin” to motivate how everyone needs a wingman, a side-kick, a friend. I myself identifying as Robin to close friends, perhaps most prominently Don Quijote, as their forever…
Breaking the fourth wall
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…
Prototypes and Archetypes: what does it mean to have a type?
Earlier today I was having a video chat with Daffodil and out of nowhere she tells me she is looking forward to meet my “guy”. Not having one, she is referring to any future lover and telling me he must…
A rainy day in Bozen
The sensation of the uncontrollable muscle contraction that rushed over my skin as a water wave surprised me in its expected lack of brutality. Days of postponing a meeting that could, if not would, send a heart attack from nervous…
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…
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…
The 30+ club
Suggested Soundtrack: About a week ago I returned to an apartment in an as messy state as I left it: dirty dishes, unmade bed, in the refrigerator moulted vegetables and soured milk, a cockroach in a glass jar (it’s a short and just-as-pathetic-as-it-sounds…
A cabin in the woods
Tucked in between an overpriced ski resort and the hills and valleys of the Dolomites, there were five of us: myself, a car and three arborists. I was down with a minor flu, the car was jammed one foot deep…