Neither Be Seen Nor Heard_Poor-Little-Girl (Non)Sense_The Bittersweet Feelings of Lockdown_My Mind i
Catalog Guide:
Neither Be Seen Nor Heard
Crashing through the glass panel of a greenhouse, I land onto a bed of velvety moss and roll forward into some large ceramic pots containing large trees with waxy green leaves and the most fragrant yellow flowers. While I am not entirely sure the location of this place, I know for a fact I am in a greenhouse of spectacular size. Checking myself for injury, I notice my clothes are in tatters, and I have a few bleeding cuts. Nothing is broken, no holes sliced into the depths of my abdomen, and my head is still attached to and directly above my neck. That last one is very important, don’t want t...
Poor-Little-Girl (Non)Sense
I was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Some white mucous stains were shimmering at the bottom of the tub. I tried throwing up, but that was all I came up with. It was some time after midnight on new years eve. “They shoot at us”, Michelle burst out, laughing hysterical. I knew what she meant, and just moments ago I shared her hysterical mood about us pretending to be shoot by the fireworks. For hours we have been running around the city center of our small town, drinking cheep champagne, partying with the crowd, dancing and kissing unknown men of unknown age. “2000” anyone screamed every fe...
The Bittersweet Feelings of Lockdown
What is today, I wonder as I stare out my window. Rain drops slide down the window pane. In twos, in threes. I predict which would get to the end of the pane faster. I'm correct most of the time. I've been doing this since the lockdown began ...three, four months ago? I don't care to check anymore. I've basically been living the same day everyday since. Seating cross-legged on my bed in grey sweats and socks, close to the window, I watch it rain. Pour, actually. The lockdown is relaxing, so I can see people running for shelter. The sky is a very dark grey and looks terribly gloomy. Memories of...
My Mind is a City
That’s the thing about this city, it’s not really a city at all. I mean if you wanted it to be, sure, we’ll go with that analogy. For literature’s sake or psychology’s what have you. If me talking about www.onedoor.ccmy mind as though it were a city entices you, so be it. I can’t promise that I’ll keep your attention, god no. I can promise that I will ramble. I must, however, preface with the fact that I am neither a speaker nor writer.Let’s begin shall we?Who needs bullet trains when thoughts race through my head at speeds faster than I knew existed. China, Japan, and oh I don’t know, Germany? Yes, they ha...