fiction
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надеюсь когда я умру по мне будут плакать люди незнавшие меня но знавшие мое творчество и будут плакать по тому что больше не познакомятся с новой поставкой с моего сердца а придется перечитывать мои призрачные буквы при жизни, а когда я умру я посмотрю богу в глаза и он скажет мне что я всю жизнь…
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when i was 17, i was determined to become a writer. i had the scenery in mind, i had the language, the almighty talent, and the loud applause coming from my friends at the time. i was absolutely convinced that by the time i turn 21, i will weigh no less than Alain de Botton,…
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I am engaged to silence, not serenity, but a quiet pearlescent sorrow that permeates everywhere and everything, accompanying my every movement. It’s as if a needle is slowly killing me day by day, piercing deeper and deeper into the solar plexus, which is physically palpable even when I am still. It seeps out in bloody traces…
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a friend told me that she intuitively feels the end of my time, as if it is coming very soon. my death will be sudden and i will remain young eternally, it will happen sometime this week, or a month. perhaps she said it jokingly, well, i laughed, and a scenario appeared in my head…
Zany Universal 