I’m the biggest critic of my own work, but sometimes you nail a chapter so good that you have to take a step back and admire that bitch.
Just been poisoned by my gran. Nothing says Christmas better than familicide and anaphylactic shock.
I’m not into this whole move with the times thing. I reckon we should just decide on a year and stick with it.
Solitude led to retrospective thinking, and if the past is what you are trying to get away from, then constant distractions in the present are needed.
Anyone who says Trust me is the last motherfucker you should ever trust.