Blogging Stories

Day 67: Lying around pitying myself. The heating in this place is ridiculous, I’m either producing icicles or I’m peeling all my skin off in a bid to stop sweating all the water out of my body. I’ve noticed a recurring theme in my blogs: the notion of ripping my skin off. I’m not into all that, I swear. “Over-active imagination”. That’s what my mum told our neighbours when I ran out of the house last summer screaming, “AL...

Day 64: Shedding my skin and fucking crawling out of it. I can’t hack this place any more, I long for grass. Burn these buildings and walls and grow grass, and then the naughty grass. So we can all get high as the sky and not give a fuck who falls to the ground. Not give a fuck if I fall to the ground. I won’t. There is no meaning any more, no light at the end of the dank tunnel, no big celebration party, no sudden epipha...