After days of radio silence, I've finally finished that one short story. It is full of playground mythology, cynicism, and exclamation marks! I'm not satisfied with how I've written it, and I'm not sure if I'm the right person to do so, but someone's got to write it. That's what I tell myself.

Today I realized the reason I've been having trouble riding my bike for the last couple weeks is because the handlebars are upside down.

Hubris begets Nemesis. I ate eight deviled eggs and now I feel some primordial evil stirring within me.

Everybody should read something by Borges, just to try it out. It's short and thought-provoking and really, really weird. Go read "the Zehir", it's thirteen pages long and one of the best things I've ever read.

A sudden burst of inspiration struck; a new short story has been written, shorter than usual.

Yippee! Finally done with writing Feathered Things, after delaying it again and again. Feels good to write again; nothing quite like it. And it's nice to have something to celebrate passing 2000 views!