Quiet Riot: When Your Existential Crisis Moves Abroad With You

“Are you okay?” My friend asked. I knew this crude type of emotional vertigo well. The tightness in my chest, as if my heart was about to be sucked out of my body through a straw, coupled with the  sudden sensation that gravity was inadequate and no matter how hard I clawed with my fingernails […]



I just want to do some random typing work on the keyboard perfectly with the a various usage of vocabulary learned from the yesterday’s reading…

OK, that writing was disturbed by my flatmate who informed that he would eat all my freshly fried rice&vegetables after I refused to open the door for him with his ridiculous excuses. Yes, I rushed out to the kitchen only to find out that my entire box of fried rice was gone, this is really devastating. The feeling that you can not protect your little product of kind labor is no doubt upsetting and anger then burst out. But he was quite safe behind the British standard anti-fire door, I can’t do anything. At last, I told him I would roast his lamb leg and this works unbelievably quick. Soon we were doing judo in the kitchen for the honor of food and of course, I got my fried rice back and ate it under the sunset light.

Well, this paragraph must contain lots of mistakes and might be very boring like a child’s dairy. Somehow that’s the real present writing level of me and I should accept it and improve it.