December 2011
5 posts
1 tag
I'm turning my screenplay into a story.
I am Schrödinger’s Hairless Cat
His hands fondled the plastic open, running his thumbprint along its under-side, peeling it apart from the plastic cheese it covered. A brown wooden box sat beside him on the table and the plastic was laid to sleep inside it. The box smelled like he thought the outside would and he breathed it in. He tore strips off the alabaster cheese and ate them, his...
Wonder when you're going to realise you cant write...
Thinking about the past and how lovely people are
3 tags
I wrote an amazing essay about the winter and about Schrödinger’s Cat in my dream last night, but a ghost stole it, and I think that’s why, when I woke up I completely forgot it. I am very sad.
2 tags
November 2011
10 posts
Gestern Abend hatte ich einen Traum über Deutschland. Ich kann nicht Warten aber ich bin nervös. Es ist lustig, dass Wein man weinen macht. Mein Deutsch ist nicht gut. Mein Gott.