The world is being reborn, tiny little leaves sprouting at the end of some branches while other trees are barren still. The grass is getting greener by the day although dried leaves from last year still litter the ground. The sky is light blue but not clear, a thin film of clouds cover it. There is birdsong in the air and the sun creates an area of fuzzy brightness as it sinks behind some hills. I notice absolutely nothing of this as I zoom down the slope on a ribbon of asphalt. My mind is focused on keeping the balance … Read the rest
The moon paints a streak of silver on the black sea. Just at the edge of it, where the sky meets the water, a series of lights mark out the shape of another ship. The wind is truly cold as it whips at my clothes and the pages of my notepad. The deck I’m sitting at is brightly lit but it is the blackness out there, perforated only by a big glowing disc, that catches my attention. The low humming drone of the ship’s engine and the rhythmic splashing of the waves fills my ears only to be pierced now … Read the rest
All I can see is a white wall with a poster on it, or alternatively the backside of a chest of drawers. There is a dull pain, kind of like that of being pinched, near my hip. After a few short moments the pain stops then comes back again, coming in irregular intervals. Some times it is more acute, and it even gets so bad that I grind my teeth and clench my fists in anguish. I have to lie on my side in this dentists type chair staring at the wall and maybe the back of the artist next … Read the rest
Lying in the darkness between two backdrops, the left one to be used soon, and behind the one on the right a familiar scene is going on, a scene from a show that I’ve seen from the sidelines many times by now. I’m stretched out in the shape of a cross on the hard stage floor, staring up at the walkways and theater mechanics high above. The actors on the other side of the backdrop are performing a song and dance number and I can feel the vibrations in the floor. I zone out for a while, staring blankly at … Read the rest
The world is without sound. The soft, fluffy snow beneath my board dampens out all but the wind. It is hard to describe this feeling, the snow is so soft it feels like floating on clouds, yet I cut through it like a knife through sun warm butter. At the same it is harsh, brown reeds and scraping sounds remind me of bumps and ridges and the wind bites in to the skin on my face. There is a kind of flow to it, the softness, the cold and the speed merging to create that special fluid feeling that is … Read the rest
Three empty seats across from me, two to the right. The seats are covered in a dreary blue cloth and the walls of my compartment are clinically grey. Outside the open compartment doors is an empty corridor and to my right, my white and orange jacket in front of the black window. It dangles back and forth with the trains motion, gadunk, gadunk, gadunk. This train reminds me of the Trans Siberian railway but not in a good way, rather in all the ways it is lacking. The compartments in those old Russian trains were more lively and more colorful. … Read the rest
The air is misty and the scene is bleak. A grayish black road with dirty snow piles along the side, and a layer of snow slush on the road that makes a sludgy noise with every step. There are birds chirping in the distance that make me feel weird. There is definitely something wrong when you exit the party just in time to hear bird song. At least the sun has the decency to not rise for another few hours. I feel relatively safe and, surprisingly, relatively sober.… Read the rest
Light drizzle eats away at the snow. I breath heavily as i walk up with my board under the arm. The hill is too short and too flat and the snow is too sticky for snowboarding, but I stubbornly keep doing it because it is more fun than sitting locked up in my room. The low gray clouds reflect the orange glow from the streetlights, casting an eerie light over the dismal scene, the fading snow and the lone snowboarder walking up for another run.… Read the rest
A myriad of streetlights penetrate the night and reflect on the soft blanket of fresh snow and it feels as bright as if it were day. The cold air is crisp against my face as I walk. Although the snow has already been trampled it has yet to be soiled by dirty boots. It is clean, innocent in a way, and the party goers passing by in the other direction don’t annoy me like they normally would. It is, in as sense, a perfect night.… Read the rest
© 2026 Renegade Writings — Powered by WordPress
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑