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I’d swoop down upon you each night and stand before you as a silhouette, as a shadow, as a black canvas upon which you paint the faces of all those you loath, as an embodiment of your fear—I’d force you to face your fear, which is at the root of all evil; afraid of change, afraid of difference, afraid of unanswerable questions you’ve held your tongue, spat your lies, chanted your curses, lifted your arm in the air.
Inspired by the never ending cycle of work and play that takes us from school and delivers us conveniently by the graveyard, Talking Soup shares the stories of everyday life however mundane or extraordinary.
Still looking for #submissions for the #Magazine. If you have had enough with the bollocks that you do, then write… https://t.co/C87l4p3VqZ
"Local Lad drinks one litre of Smirnoff, blames subsequent #poisoning on #russianspy #russianspypoisoning"
Does being perennially hungover at work qualify me for #Disability payments?