Venom.

Recovery is not linear. Some days she just won't be quiet.  Some days she just will not leave me alone...  "Don't even think about breakfast, you fat bastard".  "How could you let yourself get here?"  "ALL those fucking pounds you lost and for what, to eat your way back to this?" "People are expecting you … Continue reading Venom.

1987.

Today is the 19th of April 2017 and it is the last day of my twenties. I am even with the bad days, so clear, so awake and so fucking alive as I approach the 'big' 3-0.  I wanted to float in a written piece through my third decade - so I might never forget what … Continue reading 1987.