Iva is me

My wonderful tree, Miki, is close to having leaves more and more every day, I’m getting better and better compared to all previous years, trying to finally wrestle with this life and coming up with metaphors for the book as if my daily bread was depending on it. Right now I would like to see the butt-ugly bald guy who said I’m insane seven months ago.
Here’s another one where you cannot quite guess what is happening, when it’s happening, only where it’s happening. There are three different years involved in the story, all three of them are the years of

This was a challenge. I mean, this REALLY, REALLY was a challenge. If it wasn’t 6:10 in the morning, I would’ve screamed out loud.
In From The Bottom Of A Broken…Uh?!”, I introduced the “tag”. And in 3 out of 5 possible ways to understand that p..m that I’ve figured out so far, the “tag” was female.
In this one, the “tag” is male. Since the “tag” from the previous one cannot move, I had to use the reach factor of the entire concept as the tag. And somehow, it fit pretty well in so many ways that it’s incredible.

This one has been brewing for about six years. I partly dedicate it to an amazing friend of mine from the country most of my recent p..ms happen to have the “stage” in. I used him and myself and our countries (which end on all possible walls of shame recently…pretty embarrassing, by the way) as an illustration of what people who butter their backsides every day don’t want to see in this world.
I value the friend in question a lot. For one – he’s one of the most mature people I know, and when you say that about someone who

This was started on the 09th of April 2009 and until tonight, it remained unfinisged. The title was Malum Distordiae, but I changed it to Mala Distordiae, for the sake of a really funny word game that occurs in the original version.
This time it’s a parody of two classic fairytales with a single element of a popular modern book series. There are four (yeah, that number again) ways to determine what the “fence” is: one is connected to the area I am using as a stage for this series of p..ms, one is purely political, one is hierarchy-related, one is

I’m on a roll. And happy about that.
Late in 2008, I was trying to write a series of p..ms (while they were still called by the word the rest of the world uses) and I had the protagonists, in early 2009 I was also “blessed” with an actual plot, I only lacked the setting. It’s as if I had a badly-drawn stage. In one of the p..ms, titled “Screaming Apples”, I had a crazy setting of a forest where each single thing would scream when one of the protagonists would touch it, birds were extremely big and strange-looking and