Prelimenaries

While only a different sort of wall could actually bind the human mind as the proverbial arachnid would a fly, there are, at certain times, perks to be had from keeping it contained within a given amount of space defined by what windows and doors need in order to have meaning.

Stories after all also abound in contained spaces once you shut your eyes so tight and tune in to the ragtag symphony of voices wailing from the nether regions of the subconscious, just a little beyond the all too familiar cacophony of everyday’s bustle.

The sweetest of these voices are rather too faint to the untrained (but alluring none the less), much akin to the tinkling of pixie-sized glass bells. The most unpleasant on the other hand, are surprisingly no different from your neighbor’s drunken videoke revelry. Those in between would be subjective as per the listener’s preference: some find it smooth like the polished marble floor no northbound mongrel matriarch would not be tempted to squat its southern end upon it to claim territory; others as delightfully coarse as sand paper against newly flayed skin.

Now since I have been coerced by law to stay put in this very, very tiny pocket of the universe meant for wicked little boys and girls for the past three and a half years (and oh how time creeps so slowly), you are damn right in thinking I’ve listened to each and everyone of them in turn.

To keep my sanity intact after a few drinks with bad luck before I bedded her like the six pence whore she is and tried to marry her the morning after, I wrote some of these stories down.

After re-reading them, I have come to the conclusion that it is rather criminal to keep these tales to myself when the world needs to suffer them as well. Hence I have spliced each and one of them as blog entries to be published in no specific frequency- as everyone loves o die by slow poisoning.