I haven’t written in quite some time now. And every time I need to answer that cruel question, “what do you do”, I feel like dying. I don’t know what to say anymore. I do not write. How can I call myself a writer? All I do is sit in front of the screen, scroll … Continue reading Of writing and love
There's only so much injustice a (relatively) decent human being will endure. Eventually he'll snap. And once that happens, there usually is no turning back.