As a laugh or as weeping;
As a soft cry, or numb revelation.
We’re all quite sick.
Presumptuous I claim
My bald thoughts.
What courses through me, then,
A lost page?
A lost page.
Artist, the occupation:
To leak onto a page.
a blog about trying to live with less
Showing Up for Racial Justice
email@example.com / Stefan Draschan, Mommsengasse 6773, A-1040 Wien
Comprehending The Enigma Of Our Destiny In Time
an englishman's exploration of são paulo's concrete jungle
pleasant dreams or none at all
I am a beliver, or at least I want to be one
Writers are solitary creatures. What happens when two writers fall in love and decide to share everything with each other?
Home of Lukas Kondraciuk Photography