Patry's Writings

Mai întâi Wayfair. Acum Vinted. Care-i faza? De fiecare dată când în media apar niște semnale de alarmă despre cum anumite platforme de resell facilitează traficul de minori, răspunsurile imediate ale reprezentanților platformelor vizate apelează la tipare similare de negare: conspirație sau trolling. Fiindcă dovezile sunt invalide din punct de vedere juridic, singurul lucru pe care ne putem…

Every time warning signs emerge in the media suggesting that certain resell platforms may be facilitating child trafficking, the immediate responses from the companies involved tend to follow similar patterns of denial: conspiracy or trolling. Every time warning signs emerge in the media suggesting that certain resell platforms may be facilitating child trafficking, the immediate responses from…

The street was flooding with people who were holding torches thatvwere lighting up the darkened street and yelling and shouting. There were so many voices, that nothing could be made out of what they were screaming. But she knew. They made their message very clear. “Witch!” “Whore!” “Burn her!” “Hang her!” “Kill her!” “Death to the witch!” She was trying to hide her smile. That was the only…

I must confessI am afraid of being too muchOf feeling too muchOf loving too muchOf crying too muchOf suffering too much…People usually despise that.They want stability. But how could I give anyone that privilege,When I’ve beenToo hurt,Too misunderstood,Too judged,Too fooled,Too affectionate,Or even too cold?Too soft,Too strong,Too bad,Too good…Too spontaneous,Too fierce,Too passionate,Too in…

The little child was rocking herself in a dark corner, in an attempt to gain some comfort, while choking with sobs and tears, and gently hitting her head against the wall behind her. She was mad for being misunderstood, mistreated, and only conditionally loved by anyone that she knew. She had no idea what she wanted from her life, but at that moment, all she knew was that she had to “act up” just…

After all the shit that my life has put me through, I think nothing can help me anymore, perhaps except a goddamn lobotomy, or shock therapy. I am so tired of having something traumatic happening to me almost on a fucking daily basis, and I barely even got to process shit from years ago. And I get SO overwhelmed by everything that I’m starting to think I need a brain reset every other day. I am…

I am over it. I am over you. I am 100% sure of that. I am a whole new, different person than I was back then. You don’t know me anymore. You want to seem like you do, but you have no idea about who I am anymore. I’ve changed. A lot. To the better, or to the worse, I honestly havo no clue. It still riddles me. But at least I evolved in a few ways. You, on the other hand, remained the same. The…

A phenomenal thriller, which soon enough became a bestseller. At this point, I don’t think there actually is someone who did not at least hear about this book. So, today’s question is: What makes “The Silent Patient” so extraordinary? SYNOPSIS “Alicia Berenson’s life is seemingly perfect. A famous painter married to an in-demand fashion photographer, she lives in a grand house with big windows…

“Murder in The House, Detail” by Jakub Schikaneder Este Artă.Așa cum stă, așteptându-și sfârșitulȘtiind că nu mai e nimic ce ar putea să facă.Dar este Artă. Vopseaua roșie ce îi curgea prin vene,Acum împrăștiată pe întreg corpul ei,Ca pe o pânză,Ce o transformă în Artă. Ochii, de culoarea cerului de vară,Ce-au lăsat în urmăDoar o gaură neagră,O transformă în Artă. Părul blond, înroșit de…

This, too, shall pass

“Hi there! Long time, no see,right? But that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here now. And, truth to be told, I’ve never been so happy to see you, dear friend. I have so many things to tell you, so much to get off my chest. I truly missed the freedom of our conversations. Oh, sorry! Maybe you want to say something, too, and here I am, just rambling endlessly. You can interrupt me at any point if…

A Lesson To Learn

Perhaps one of the toughest things in my life at the moment is learning a lesson that I suppose we all have to learn at some point: letting go. Letting go of people, unleashing emotions, relieving bonds that no longer can be kept (or even if you can keep them, bear in mind that it is against your nature.) You can’t keep forcing something if it wasn’t meant for you in the first place. And most of…

“We are afraid of the power that poetry holds”, I once heard a wise woman say. And I do believe that with every piece of my soul. I felt it myself. I was afraid to write poetry because I thought I wasn’t going to do it the right way. I was afraid to recite poetry because I thought I wasn’t going to do it the right way. I was afraid to read poetry because I thought I wasn’t going to understand it…

But I don’t know how to bleed

And when I bleed,I wish I could bleed into art. But I don’t know how, or where to start. I can’t simply regurgitate my pain on a piece of paper. It has to be seen as poetic,To be felt as romantic.But I don’t know howTo write something so fantastic. If only I could play with the words… It has to be interpreted as dramaticAnd to be felt as frightening. But I don’t know howTo paint something so…

Undress me carefully. You might wonder what I mean.You may be bold, tenaciousAnd rush to uncover my skin. You might be daringAnd grab me by the hem of my blouse. Drag me over, Pull me against your bodyAnd kiss me:Passionately, Fiercely,Needing meAnd craving me. Or You might be softAnd trace your fingers along my face,And down my neck,And going down…Or up my legs,And up my thighs,And going up… Or…

Hello, Bookaholics! I have just created this special Feedback post in order to see how much you actually like what I do around here. Any suggestions to improve anything are always welcomed!

Poll

Breathing. Starring into the void. Looking right at me– through me. Perhaps you really don’t see me. Screaming. Crying. Trying to make you see me. But you don’t. Everything on your face is just blank. Your eyes only move to blink. Your lips will keep caged in all the words your mind would want to let out. Your smile, that wide, sincere smile you had mere moments before, had vanished completely…

Sit down and study. Work for your dream. Remove all distractions Which might interfere. Get the books off of your desk. Your papers and your notes, Your clothes and your shoes. You feel drained of energy,So you simply throw them on the floor.But hey! You’ve got an empty desk,Maybe you can actually start focusing on your work. What’s that? You just received a text?Oh, they all begin to care…