Those Questions Got You Killed

​After anger comes questioning. Questioning of them, of yourself, of the whole fucking world actually. You were taught to question them, question the status quo, question all the damn time. Because isn’t that how you find the truth? And not any sort of truth, but the realest thing. You know, the realest of truths. You get there, you think you know the realest of truths, but then they come along. They don’t see that truth that you’ve learned. They argue and argue and you keep using the same old trick you’ve learned. Reason and logic. They try to use it as well. They tell you, you don’t know shit. Everything you’ve learned is bullshit. Everything you’ve experienced doesn’t fit statistics. What is it that you’re learning anyway? How is it useful? It’s not like you invented a new vaccine, right? You’re useless. What you learn is useless. Why do you keep questioning everything? If you do, then why don’t you question that realest of truth of yours? 

And so you do. You question it. And yourself. And you lose yourself in that never ending cycle of questioning. Because what is the point of learning about the realest of truths when the people who have the power over it won’t listen? So you think it’s not your fault, it’s theirs, for ignoring the realest of truths. You get angry again. You do something stupid. Now, they only see you through the lens of the stupid thing you did. You’re fucked. 

In the end they’re right, ‘cause you didn’t achieve shit. 

So why not do more stupid things? It’s not like they will see you any different ever again. Might as well play into that new identity they created for you. Be angry, be mean, be right in their faces. Why would you care what they think of you now? They never listened before, maybe they’ll listen if you scare them. Yes, that would be good. 

But no, actually it won’t. It’ll be bad. You’ll end up spread on that wet pavement, your head bashed into the curb. Your blood will fill your mouth, your eyes… then you can tell people you really saw red. You won’t get the chance though. Instead, you end up a media token. Outrage follows. Lots of it. For an instant, they might understand. They might see the realest of truths. But then they quash these uncomfortable thoughts. After all, it’s not in their best interest to tell the world you were right. 

No matter how dead you are.


Quick Thought On Boobs

I don’t have much time, so I’ll make it short. There’s something that the world needs to know, before Uni drains me of life again.


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Top Tip on Being a Vampire


By Happy Mashiro

‘Let’s be real. One of the best things about being a vampire is your vagina not painfully draining of blood each month. Now you get to do the draining, anywhere and any time you want!’  Read more…



I’m looking for advice you see,
I have a crush on Ms. Anonymous
But I’ve been throwing lots of dice to see,
If she’s better than Ms. Recognised
Yet, I need to think thrice you see,
There’s another one, Ms. Solitude
She’s also really nice to see
Though cutting in on Ms. Engaged
What should I do? You tell me

They’ve all been at war
Killing me
And the fact of it all
Is I won’t be
The hole at the end of

*My first attempt at a poem and I’ve received some help from an awesome Panda*

Little Red Riding Hood’s Mother


By Joysuke Wong

Another empty beer bottle smashed against the wall, the broken glass cutting her arm as she tried to move out of the way. Followed by a stream of curses, she quickly made her way to the kitchen and grabbed another drink from the fridge.

She was no longer surprised by how long it took for his cold mask to drop and reveal the sadistic monster she never got to know until the knot was tied. Read more…

How to boost your confidence in 10 steps for writers

I was going to write a post about being unworthy of the liebster award that I was nominated for about a month ago. This morning I woke up thinking, I’m not good enough to be a writer anymore. After all, I haven’t posted anything for a moth. This morning as well, I was told by a quite sophisticated panda that I’m being absurd. I can’t just give up because I have some silly doubts. I have to keep writing or die trying.

*dramatic pause*

Actually, I’d rather not die, but you get the gist. Anyway, here is a blog post by Pleats and Keats, that really did boost my confidence as a writer (right after the lecture I received from a stubborn and loving panda).

Embrace your inner artist and develop writer’s self esteem! It’s an important part of being a confident creative!writing tips

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Always Past And Future, Never Present

I need to post something. Anything! It’s been eleven days, ELEVEN!!!

I was sitting, unattractively hunched in front of a giant computer screen, at my favorite Uni library. The coffee on my left was barely touched; it doesn’t take much to turn me into an unstoppable babbling machine, so I was taking it slow. 

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No, I Don’t Belong To One Place

1863_world_map-25001I’m being introduced to a stranger. Everything seems to go smoothly; we exchange obligatory smiles, I am complimented on my strong handshake, and as always the weather is mentioned first.

“How hot is it today, eh?” Read more…

My Thoughts On, Uh… Religion

It’s troublesome, to say the least.

However, before I continue I would like you to give you, Dear Reader, a warning. This post might offend you if you are a religious person. I, sincerely and with my warmest regards, would advise you to stop reading now and discover a less controversial blog in the very loving space we call the Internet.

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I’ll (Try) Make A Nest For You

Bean bags are not the best supporting material for building forts. They have basically no structural integrity and behave more like fluid trapped inside over-stretched balloons. And yet, I was too proud and stubborn to admit these simple facts. I was bent on making something special and original, and kept resisting the urge to use the familiar simplicity of pillows and blankets. Read more…

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