e-revista EgoPHobia
by Ana Bazac If I would dedicate this note to the upcoming Christmas, it would be simple bumkum: “holidays are always the occasion to show our compassion for the unfortunate, our goodwill, our charity, au fond our love for humans, are they?” And tear-exciting palaver about poor children and mothers finding their happiness (goods necessary for […]
by Ana Bazac Between the everyday external goods man needs not only as a living being depending on the permanent exchange of matter and energy, but just in order to fulfill its specific function – the exercise of reason – according to Aristotle, there is one matter-of-course and which is so integrated in our routine […]
next to a burrow on this wooded bluff beside the Mississippi singing hymns of well-being for that which lives within perhaps even a goddess yes, the goddess of some small creatures
by Ștefan Bolea I live inside an iron maiden I’m just a rat beneath my mask squirming in the basement slimy and vile wear the crown until I remove my eyes with mirror pieces until an army of devils surrounds and captures me until hell burns down and becomes inhabitable until the apple swallows […]
by Oliviu Crâznic Coming with the resurrection, Casting spells won`t hide the sins; I`m still seeing, in my nightmare, How you’ve cut your bleeding wings.
by Ana Bazac One of the most neglected concepts by philosophy was and is the regret. The reason is the huge content of personal responsibility towards the phenomena contemplated with sorrow. And for the regret is not only a sentiment of sadness related to what had happened – or could have happened but did not – […]
by Lex Demoncock A big “Sale” sign hung in the window of the Beverly Hills Polo Club. Only a desperate social climber would want to be seen by another desperate social climber wearing that label and only in Hong Kong, that hot-house, demo-model of consumer capitalism the Brits set up to diddle the Chinese Communists. […]
Brochure as Memento Mori Former Calulu Post Office it says, High Ceilings. Lots of Shedding conjures a wry verb. Verandahs, Porches, twist my heart with love as artless as these framed angles are artful. Historic Old Charmer the board blares. I am up for auction, I jest, but nobody laughs.
by Costi Gurgu There aren’t many Romanian horror writers. There never have been. It’s not like there wasn’t a fertile field there; because the local folklore tells a different story. But lately, the social and political realities haven’t give it much opportunity. And then, there is Oliviu Craznic. A young writer who took it upon […]
[fissuring] Between two high notes The song gives a crack Long enough To allow me to enter Like a fish jumping back Into the night water