A Darkness More than Night

I didn’t think it was possible, but seemingly it is. Michael Connelly is a genius, his books are really, really awesome. I don’t really like thrillers, but I must admit that the books I’m reading now (HIS books) are dragging me in.

After Blood Work, there comes the next on my list (A Darkness More than Night), which made me score an own new record: 461 pages read in less than 24 hours. I went to sleep last evening cause I couldn’t read more as my eyes were too tired, and the first thing I did early this morning was turning on the light and start reading. That’s insane.

‘Nuff of that though. On another side I’m doing kind of good. I lack inspiration, had a couple ideas but I’m not really into drawing, coding or making any music at all. I guess that time comes for every artist to just sit back and relax, until some idea pops in saying “here, you’re ready to start again”.

Still around, though not as often as before.

Love ya loads.


Rip & Thorn

I thought about asking you a question, wondering if you might be giving me an answer I cannot seem to find. But to do so let me introduce a little of the story.

Suppose that you meet this guy/girl, and after some time start hanging out with him/her. You seem to like him/her more and more, and after some time you even start believing that he/she might be THE one (feeling in a way you haven’t felt in quite a while, now).

Then after some time (and apparently out of nowhere) you find out he/she’s right-winged (politically speaking), or to say it clear, some kind of nazi-fascist. What would you do?

I, myself, am on all of the opposite side, truly convinced as an artist and a human, that everybody on this earth were born equal to each other. A couple sentences totally destroyed my whole vision of her, even giving me some kind of strange feelings, being both sorry for her and pitiful for myself… I almost broke the conversation, as that has been the end of a tragically fucked up day, so I did not went deep enough to understand if she really is like that. Or maybe I just didn’t have the strength to find out she could really BE like that. It has been so stressful that due to my everlasting sickness problems (as everlasting as unknown to any medic) I felt like collapsing on myself for something like three days.

I just don’t know what to do. Wanted to talk to her but the only words which appeared in my mind where: “yeah, right… and what do I tell her?”.

I’m off balance. Caught off guard. Love sucks. Or even feelings, I’m not sure I could call that love. But ffs, it’s leaving me like a pitiful man.

And to close this whining with style, let me write down a lyric for you (at least you might find something interesting in this post):

Love is blindness,
I don’t want to see,
won’t you wrap the night
around me?

Blood Work

I just read the last 23 chapters (out of 47) straight… I started something around midnight, and it’s 5am right now.

The only thing I can clearly say is: “this book is awsome. its author is a true genious”.

Props to Michael Connelly then, and if you don’t know what to read or want some hint, then let me suggest you this wonderful book, it’s really worth it.

And no, I don’t get anything off book sales, hehehe.


SMS sent to my mother from a relative:

Listen, don’t call me after I tell you this… I really don’t want to talk about it on telephone. We will talk about it later. I just want to tell you this before you get to know it from someone else. I know you’re going to feel bad about it, but I’m sure that together we will be able to get through this moment…

Santa Claus doesn’t exist!

Luckly I still have some decent relative…