The sad man stares at a blank page and is afraid to mark it with more words that sound the same as everything that came before. Rhetorical nonsense borne of a broken heart. Borne of longing. Borne of loneliness. Last night in an open field, beneath the moon, the sad man watched Rancid, a band he has loved for more than twenty years, and came...
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cersei:
Rancid is one of my fav bznds ever
booktowrite:
@cersei thank you for taking the time to read my blog, I appreciate it, and for sharing a love of Rancid :)

Looking for a September holiday destination? Come and celebrate with us on the 2nd of September in Vigo, Spain, at La Fabrica de Chocolate for concerts, raffles, food, drink and a generally huge party. #thehandicaps #celtavigo #lapreviaceltista #vigo #vigocity

I was born into a struggling family in the north west of England. We lived in a small industrial town on the outskirts of Manchester. Glamour was forbidden us, as, it seemed, was the sun. Sunglasses were for Hollywood celebrities and even Coca Cola a mere fantastical fad from a far-off land where the sun always shone. We had rain and wind and cold grey...
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The pain that we feel inside, the things that we hide. A lady pushes a pram and rolls her eyes as her husband walks by her side and says something softly into her right ear. Across the road a man in a car that is falling apart attempts to park and looks as if he is hungry and close to tears. Business men are scurrying...
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freyahz:
😘😍

It’s something of a mess. The alcohol. The flirtation. The lack of sleep. A life of good fortune being pushed too far, perhaps. Writing and reading and music are the things for which I live and, thrown in with this, I want to have fun before I am too old to do the things I can do today. Therefore, there is a fine balance...
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I've been traveling so much of late that I've not had a chance to write. So, here, upon this flight from Madrid to London, I'll pen a few words. So much comes to mind that I’m almost at a loss. It feels great… familiar and strange to be back in Madrid. The city that was home for three years and still...
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VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
elaena:
Nice blog!
booktowrite:
Thank you @elaena

The story of the spare wheel remains consistent and it remains true. As Morrissey once wrote, ‘in my own strange way I have always been true to you.’ In my own strange way I have always been true to Morrissey. Tonight I went for a drink with a very lovely French lady of Vietnamese descent in the inviting area of Davis Square and had a...
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pimenta:
story of my life, bro. i'm single since 2010

A whisper pierces the night from beyond the corner of the room. It’s the rusty whisper, or sigh, of sadness… like a fleeting memory of a happy and beneficial friendship now buried in the sand of past time and marked as nothing more than a communal grave… a mass burial ground for all of the friends and lovers that I lost by being too...
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pimenta:
i really like your blogs, i think they talk to my thoughts
booktowrite:
Thank you @pimenta I really appreciate that you take them time to read them and comment.

The linguist reappeared and brought a smile to my very soul. I had suspected that she had fled instead and had recoiled in horror at the thought of my existence. Apart from the fact that I am older than her, we have many things in common… a love of words and their usage, the meanings that are derived from their different usages, the way that...
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You posted a memory from three years ago and, even though I had seen the photo before, when you originally posted it, something about it struck me for the first time. In the photo your running gear is neatly laid out upon your bed prior to the marathon and the bedsheet on your bed is one that I gave to you. It was one that...
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lyn:
<3
booktowrite:
Thank you, @lyn