Because I’m in a rare confessional mood and it’s past midnight and I can’t think of anything great to say or I’ve said so much of it in my earlier posts today and I’m saving it up for the week. Or because I’ve just read Thought Catalog and a healthy…


Back in Stockholm

Your heart is a barren wasteland. It’s where dreams go to dieand hopes that have a masochist side to themhang around your mindwaiting to be strangledwhile you polish your toolstry to choosebetween condescension,cynicism and the old faithful – indifference. You must be a collector. A connoisseur of dampened aspirationPurveyor of…