In deep night, godmen are singing hymns, shouting verses. God must be a deaf creature. But what to tell these men? You can tell God something, but you can't tell these men. It's so ridiculous to even think about telling them anything. You say a word to them and it's already a joke, a waste [...]
Author: Tomic Riter
Moonrising.
idly rotating along with everything how beautiful - moon rising nobody else watching nights like these won't be coming from deep red to orange to the final golden the sound of water dripping from a pipe cool breeze accompanying I imagine your body over mine, crawling. Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.
That evening or whatever that was.
Not even an hour passed since I fell in bed. Unbelievable! I woke up too early. But it was evening outside. It won't be less a couple of hours before I started feeling the need to leave my home and go out to somewhere; to where, I couldn't know. That would have killed the fun. [...]
On my upcoming debut novel.
Crossed 7000 words in my first novel's draft. I have wasted a lot of days by not writing enough. But then , what is enough? How much will be enough? How to define the word 'enough' when it comes to writing. I have no idea and I got no will to define it. Sometimes, writing [...]
I had a dream.
I had a dream. Well, fuck it. It's been a long time. I have been drunk so much since then. One bottle after another. One night after another. One song and then another. Nothing ends. Everything is on repeat. The food, the people, the bars, the cities, the roads, the beer cans. Everything. How would [...]
From my red room.
From my red room. Dirty as hell and unattended. The only light before my midnight. The only songful haven in this goddamn graveyard where not a grass grows. This is my red room and I come alive here and fall dead here almost every day. My disgraceful coffin inside which I lie and I lust [...]
All 700 days of my life.
It's the same road, only more damaged. I am heading on the same route and coming back via the same route. It's the same dust rising and settling down and, the next morning, rising again. It's the same people greeting me in the noon, the same tea in the evening, the same foolishness all day. [...]