Maybe one day, one of them, any of them, will forgive me. Maybe one day, possibly, I could, forgive myself. Adorned fetishes, alters and shrines, for old memory. Encapsulated pity, false hope, put away, on a shelf. It’s a nightmare, this I know Malicious seeds I will sow I try to stop this compulsion History … Continue reading Rémission



Tunnel, dark and damp, empty, except for remorse Him, in the dire offal vomits, with all his force Every stone, carefully placed, lay prone, shit-faced Chrysalis of burden, Hate, lies, and pity Transformation Adaption to the shitty Internal cages, layered emotion, struggle to fail, suffering devotion Break through the walls, find disappointing reality Find the … Continue reading Megamorphosis

What the hell is a ‘hybrid author’?

Interesting points

Milly Schmidt

Yes, of course I poached Chuck Wendig’s brilliance from his article of the exact same name. But, to my credit, I did change my title slightly to reflect my amazing originality.

In a similar fashion to Wendig (God I am a poacher today), when I first came across the term ‘hybrid author’ I pictured something a little less than normal. For me, it was a science fiction writer with wings, a thick outer armour, an extra set of hands and the ability to never sleep. And I don’t know, maybe yellow eyes and vivid green dragon scales.

Realising my interpretation might be a tad fantastical, I sat down and did a bit of critical and creative reasoning (a.k.a terribleminds via google) and figured out that hybrid authors are pretty f—– brilliant.  Not only have they figured out that the publishing industry is changing at a rapid pace, but they have taken steps to…

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Comme je brûle, donc je me tiens

I do not presume to understand or know the future before it reaches me. I know the past all too well, and I understand the rhythmic repetition of themes throughout all time and my personal time on this ball of mud. I have seen good, bad, and indifferent, I have seen the cogs spin and … Continue reading Comme je brûle, donc je me tiens

Fruar Te Maneat, Hoc est meum Inferos

Many times over, people have said certain things to me and I always assumed that they were, in fact, talking about themselves, wrongly so. They would consistently put themselves down, such lacking self-worth, from people I looked at as great, with all their flaws. It seems a strange attraction I must have to these broken … Continue reading Fruar Te Maneat, Hoc est meum Inferos

Ex astris me comedunt, non itur ad astra.

He breathes easy, momentary respite is a pleasure rarely gained in his time. He walls off the last remaining doors to the center of this grand structure. His home, or at least the one for his heart, so that it may never bleed like it has before. Intricate and methodical, it is a prison, but … Continue reading Ex astris me comedunt, non itur ad astra.

Seul, si froid et seul

It is probably far beyond the time he grew up, he has wasted his own time chasing everything and getting nowhere fast. He had better get used to his own company as this was the only one he would ever have. Some might say be happy you don't have to put up with blah blah … Continue reading Seul, si froid et seul