in·ter·im

        I live between the rock and the hard place where living is no better than dying, happiness no greater than crying, truth no different from lying.    

When You Are Screaming on the Inside

    I was walking along the road with two friends – the sun was setting – suddenly the sky turned blood red – I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence – there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city – my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety –Continue reading “When You Are Screaming on the Inside”