Mafia Girl

exam hall to Soho
rainfall to ice-cream
scarf to scarlet dress

2017 saw the disintegration of the university.
The abolition of traditional restraints.
The radical redistribution of time and space.
The creation of new paints.

Sunny chaos.

Settings of rapid transitions paved the way
for the emergence of Mafia Girl.

She, the alleyway bridging the old town and new town, drifts on a raft.
Puts her hands in the water of time.

Unlike her brothers, her position is ensured
not through physical violence.
She pivots, laughing, in micro-degrees
between societal segments.

The silent buffer between the zig
and the zag of passing cars,
she saps the nectars of the world,
feeding her own honey jar.

The sweetness of this language
she will not translate
to the boroughs of people and ideas
that she connects and separates.

Mafia girl enjoys the gaps
between people configurations.
The very silence from which she drinks
leads to uncharted directions.

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20th October 2016 – Gloomy Sunday, All Days, Always

I am in a place where I congratulate myself for merely opening my violin case, tuning my strings and fumbling a scale on the fingerboard. If by some miracle I make it any further, my soul seems to shrivel with dissatisfaction and hopelessness into one of those slimy slaves in Ursula’s cave, the name of which is frustratingly hard to find even on such magnanimous search engine like Google.

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Friday March 14th 2014 – Woop, woop

Guys, I did it. I wrote that damn essay in two days, and now all I have to do is cut out 230 words before Monday. Before the last hurdle I’m going to tap some words onto this space…

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As much as I dread starting essays I quite enjoy exploring the library for readings. Yeah, yeah, there’s WestLaw and LexisNexis, those banks of legal gobbledygook stored online. But nothing beats a shelf of rusty red Law Quarterly Reviews. Oh the perks of being an academic, I realise them now.
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