Occasionally I wish that I could write volumes of terribly beautiful, incredibly deep and definitely prize-winning fiction. Other times, I shrug my shoulders and write about things which amuse me.
Category: ness rambles
this bookish thing
The co-worker wouldn't have appreciated being grabbed and told 'so, there was this bridge and this Dauphin and this duke and ohmergosh THEY ACTUALLY DIDN'T HAVE PEACEFUL INTENTIONS AT ALL!'
death of a bookworm
And so my shelves grow more packed and my to-read pile grows up and up until they'll be using it in basic astronomy: Question: How far is to the moon? Answer: Ness's to-read pile.
tenses: a conversation with myself
"I should just write poems," you say, staring at the gloomy wasteland of your decaying future.
// home again
I brought forty-six books home with me. And a pair of glorious heels and five packs of sweets, but ... forty-six books ... I feel like a proper bookworm. The check-in luggage weight limit was 23kg. I made it 22.8kg. I high-fived the check-in bloke and did not gush about Travel Panic, The Lift My… Continue reading // home again
of words & books 