Category Archives: His name is Vivian

Did I mention I’m alive? Life and the stories of the living while I my labour still goes as life.

Luft?

Jeg ligger i senga og puster. Alarmen piper. Radioen er på. Det er lyst. Jeg tror jeg har vært oppe om natta, for ting står ikke der hvor de burde være, og jeg har ikke på meg undertøy. Det er … Continue reading

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In my mind, I pretend I can’t feel anymore.

Some four years ago, my cellphone rang. That my phone rang, is a rare and peculiar event on its own right, because of this, I hesitated not to answer it. A classmate of mine was calling on the behalf of … Continue reading

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