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The Job Interview
I’m sorry, Joink, but I can’t give you this job. You’re too happy to be a clown. Being one isn’t about going to clown school, cheering up a bunch of sick kids in the hospital, blowing balloons or doing cartwheels. It’s so much more than that. There’s a certain depth to this life that only… Continue reading
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Branching out
A friend once told me that his sorrow owed him something. I believed him then, but no longer do. The only thing my depression owes me is to stay far away from me, never nudging me to explore the darker places within — those desert spaces where the humidity kills and an umbra of madness… Continue reading
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Fool
This is the gully where that beady-eyed, fluorescent-shirt-wearing cowboy murdered you, after promising that you’ll inherit his ranch if you helped him get investors for his Ponzi scheme. That guy, with his southern drawl and his dark brown boots, had this nefarious aspect to him you saw through, but still fell victim to — the… Continue reading
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On writing
If I taught poetry to students, I’d ask them to write in the language they think in and use the thesaurus wisely when they don’t. A simple sentence like the petrichor wafts through the mountains, bringing with it the smell of rich earth dampened by the rain can turn into a pappyshow of decent writing… Continue reading
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Life and yada yada
Once dawn broke through with her lucent wings, soaring down like a phoenix, bringing with her fierce reckoning and shaking off hebetude — the sins of your foes avenged by the flick of the wrist, the tossing aside of the bed sheet, the morning run, breakfast at 7, and a need to be somebody everybody… Continue reading
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Pinky’s Burger House (Part 3)
Part 1 Part 1.5 Part 2 You hardly sleep that night. It’s one thing to be ostracised; another to be mentally ill, but it’s terrifying to be both. You didn’t ask for this. Your friends deserted you the moment you dropped out of college, deeming you a layabout or a loser with no ambition who’ll… Continue reading
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Pinky’s Burger House (Part 2)
Part 1 Part 1.5 Pinky’s Burger House had this quaint-coffeeshop-ensconced-in-the-mountains ambiance. While I flipped burgers and served fries, I wondered if I’d made the right choice trusting Mr Pink (the owner). What was I going to get, working 9-4, wearing a greasy apron, a fading pink jacket with a picture of a walrus on the… Continue reading
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Say something clichéd
Say something clichéd like those three overused words, the crux of RomComs and evocative drama movies, detailing how Jack endured it all — the fire and the crimson droplets to find Jane, trudging through snow and madness. No one has ever said them to me without a hint of hypocrisy: an askew semblance of jade,… Continue reading
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Pinky’s Burger House (Part 1.5)
Part 1 I’ve well documented my struggles with faith. I’d prefer not to dwell on it now though and instead give you part 2 of Pinky’s Burger House. Yes, all my posts are back. You can view them leisurely and lament my madness and yada yada. But before we launch into part 2 of Pinky’s… Continue reading
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Pinky’s Burger House (Part 1)
This is part 1 of a many part series about my experiences at a job I worked in recently. Whether this series is fact or pure fiction is up to the reader to decide. I woke up that crisp, winter morning hungover and went outside to get myself a cup of tea and a cigarette.… Continue reading
About Me
Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff.
Ordinary Person 