Alice was a junkie. Heroin was the drug of choice. She overdosed once and went into a coma. No one came to visit her in the hospital, no one cared. Doctors considered switching the machines off. Only one doctor refused, she felt pity for the junkie. …

And no, he didn’t write the book, someone else did. — Another day, another story about the ginger prince. What’s the fascination with the rich guy with the fucked up life story? Can’t people see that it’s just marketing to sell his book that he didn’t write? …

When I return from holidays for a day or two I try to avoid human contact. London is a grim place to come back to. Grey skies, semi-robotic movements of rushing people. I try to dodge getting infected by the slight madness Londoners have. …

The dreamlike story whilst I am trying to go back to sleep — I am reading a book called “Breathing”. Maybe it’s called “Breathe”, I am not a hundred per cent sure. “How can it be”, you are asking. “How can you not know the name of the book”? Well, life is a mystery and I am awake at three AM and I…

Corrupted hearts and twisted minds of so-called justice — I will say whatever I want, and there will be no one to stop me. Hey, control pricks you won’t shut me up! You can pretend as much as you like that you are the fighters of virtue, that you are on the right side of history but.. …

I wrote a story that you are not able to see here. Medium suspended it. It was one of my most successful stories. Many people read it, and even more people viewed it. Many commented on it. I was warned by some that my account might get cancelled or the…

Some guy with an emerald miners’ kickstart in his life bought a new toy, and hypocrites lost their shit. “Ahaha, the Nazi bought Twitter, we are all doomed,” they shout. “I AM LEAVING TWITTER”, they add to their tweets. So leave; what are you waiting for? Off you go. Go…