fiction
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Ъ – a letter firmly holding its place in the alphabet, producing not a single sound, possessing no precise shape or definition, and yet it exists. We all know of Ъ. It gives form to our words, separating their softness the moment they approach an ending. The alienation of Ъ lies in its inner excess,…
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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 