Every now and then, I’m weeping that one of my closest friends became so absorbed in both web 1.0 culture and pop culture that she forgot about me completely (as I assume I was occupying the last remainings of free space that I no longer occupy). I’m wondering why a person ten years younger than Read on
Fresh out of the Wrong Star bakery, here are Snowcookies – a hermetic, claustophibic, panic look into a…rounded shape. It could be the exact “stage” that’s one of the places where all these p..ms take place, it could be only the central part of that stage in its future shape, it could be one’s heart, Read on
I started writing this one on 13th July 2009 and it didn’t sound good. Going through my p..m abortions (I have more of those than an idiot woman would of real babies), I found it and suddenly, I had the energy to finish it.
Is it a Wrong Star p..m? I never had that on my Read on
When I calm down after having done something that was somewhat destructive (such as breaking that kitchen item I broke), I always think of what my friend Rebecca (who’s already awesome enough for not wanting to be Becca, Becky or something, mind you) said – that things can change in a second.
This one is doing Read on
Today is the 08th of May. I always think of it as the date one of my elementary and high school friends was born and at the same time, in the same hour, the day a crazy Canadian daredevil finished his guest appearance on this planet. So, it’s somewhat suitable that this daredevilish p..m is Read on
This was inspired by Fantasia, Showgirls and the first thing that happened in 2010. It’s probably going into the Wrong Star sarcobucket. The title implies that there’s a continuation. It’s not about anyone I know in particular, it’s about one of the strangest practices from my point of view.
The strange motifs from the first verse Read on
This one is not a part of the Wrong Star series, despite the mention of the colour black and despite some p..ms from the Wrong Star series dealing with the same event of no major significance to anyone but me. Many of the p..ms I’ve written in 2009 and a couple of p..ms I’ve written Read on
I can’t sleep. It’s one of the most exhausting days of the entire year, St. George’s day, and I should sleep, but I can’t. I am thinking of how I went to four different places eight years ago, ate four huge meals and then almost yelled for help all night long. I am thinking of Read on
I thought I’d have the whole body of work for the Wrong Star series complete by the 26th of April. I never said which year, though; despite the non-opportunist in me wanting to avoid the one in 2011, no matter what. I wanted to offer a provisoral book to download, like, last Monday. And then Read on
Nikad nema kraja, nikad nema kraja,
jednostavno nema kraja.
Kad sve deluje kao prava linija,
stiže još i još krivina.
Dvadesetčetiri hiljade godina.
It never ends, it never ends,
It just never ends.
Just when it looks like a straight line
There are more and more bends.
It could be never,
Twenty-four thousand years.