Stop talking and listen, what has happened to this body that you have weakened. I trusted you and I was betrayed. I was led to believe something and was given the benefit of nothing. Despair again, a moment of me trailing you, trying to forget, trying to love beyond, but in a hand, that held me close, I was led to a room, and in that room I found out, I found out who you truly were. But I scream nonetheless, and I live and exist to die, and when I die I will think of you, when you gave…


Why, hello, it is my birthday!, happy birthday?, happy birthday!, and I don’t have friends, so you are my friend, let us go.

Let us go, friend I just met, I am always jolly to meet new people in the slums, near the ancient burial.

Indeed, we find ourselves with the cake of ice cream blood, and there it is, a friend I knitted, a friend I crafted, a friend I molded, a friend I photographed, a friend I painted, a friend I mounted and stuffed, a friend I painted, and a friend as a birthday gift.

Hello, hello, here…


All her life she dreamt of a paradise in between and away from the wars that existed, bloodied in a rage endlessly, the incompetence of the living, the stench of dead, and the eyes she had shattered herself. She found one in the place she had least expected it. A small bookstore where no one dared to enter because it contained nothing of importance, no food to search, no strategic position, no sense of worthiness amongst the destruction around her. There she found knowledge, she found enough life in herself, and found herself reading and spending her time reading, and…


Always surprised by your ineptitude, I have to believe that you will do the right thing before the end of your life.

But then, who will I be, if not a poisonous friend, a slow, talkative fraud that has done little and accomplished nothing? You would love me still.

There was no love, however, among two friends who are now enemies. Of feelings and betrayals, one stands above and is righteous and heroic, while the other one is unsavory and deceitful. …


The feeling rose, the flesh rotted, a liveliness that had he become accustomed, gone, a flash in the burning pyre, she dressed it all up from her delicate feet to her giant head, she sobbed into the lamp fire, for the malaise had extended. …


It is the nightmare of every night to walk watching the stars, so far away from home. Mother awaits there, asleep and peaceful, Father works in the night and he thinks about me as I walk through the houses I fear, upwards, downwards, left, and right, a spiral across the city roads, paved in the uncertainty of shadows.

For many years, I had resented these streets. I had never trusted them nor the people who live and prosper around them. And I have to face them at night too, where the ones that are unknown inhabit. The teeth somewhere, anywhere…


It was given, a flower, with a thousand petals, and if they fall off, the day ends, the night falls, then the whole world ends, and the chocolate melts without every being tasted. From then on, it becomes a struggle to keep not only hope alive, but the flower, which has been placed in the hearts of many, and it slowly withers away by acts of corruption and evil, by the acts of rage and revenge, but also in moments of cruelty, exploitation, and assassination.

It should be easy to avoid its poisonous thorns and keep its blooms alive, but…


For many years, Ralphie had felt underappreciated, miserable, and lonely but during this whole last year, he had felt a lot better about himself. He woke up every day, exercised and greeted the world with a giant smile on his face. Even the big, thumping, buzzing noise did not seem to irritate his tympanic cavities that much.

That particular day, he went to his job. He had hated it in the past but, for the most part, he had found out that not only he liked working there but he actually liked the people he once thought he hated, especially…


The battle, my friends, is always in the things that I have written and the ones that I am ready to write. You will know, of course, that I am a writer and because of that I am very pretty and very willing to hear the opinion of others. I am also ready to understand my role in the world, that is, a person who has bared his soul to the world so that people crave my musings and drink my poison.

But I lost it, the plot I mean, and it is nowhere to be found, and I cannot…


I looked over in the distance, way beyond mountains of death, and there they were, glows of light unlike any other. That was the shining moment of wonder, a love like no other, and one of obsession, the one that was lost in a tormented storm, a path that leads to suffering and loneliness. I wanted them both for myself, their both caresses flowing in my face, gathering in my heart.

I gathered my belongings and made my way away from everyone I ever knew. It was a difficult choice, but a dream sometimes was worth more than a thousand…

Eric S. V. B.

I like to write for some reason so I’m doing it here. I’ll try write something every day, and hopefully, get better at it.

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