the other half of the duo. the uninteresting one. the one who’s shy and awkward, but likes to play drums. the noisier the better. that’s my only talent. 😔 noise.

My writing journey began over two decades ago but then we didn’t have internet and blogs. We had paper and physical journals. Cursive writing was still a thing and I had to put my thoughts down on paper, otherwise I would go crazy. To this day my mind keeps on shuffling between non-stop altering thoughts, voices, ideas. I figured they had to go somewhere in order for me to get some peace and quiet and structure. So, what is there to expect? Something of personal, abstract, non-linear, and ordinary. A work in progress of digitizing my scribbles, entries, and tales.

• WIP •
(Work In Progress)

story teller and his senseless bits
story teller: bazaar of the bizarre


lovers’ tiff: a ballad
note to self
jacob journal

eyes: DEEP BLUE – hair: DARK BROWN – height: 177 cm

art back view black and white dark

i regard this life as a nonchalant passing of bits so bluntly equipped to be a stride, a vast and epic achievement when collected into a total sum. it isn’t always a volcanic eruption of events. at times, it’s consecutively simple and un-inventive.
—  my arbitrary thought (jacob)