Alone on Christmas Night
The vicious voice of winter is the pock- marked strangler sneaking up behind you in an alley filled with bums and winos, when you are lonely on a Christmas night. […]
Category Archives: Real Toads
When skiing in full moon
Nowhere there is silence such as silver spilling from the full cold moon. Nowhere there’s an essence quite as lucid as the freezing glow of moonlit snow. Nowhere am I […]
No tygers anymore
It was afterwards we realized that fearful symmetry was not the burning bright of stripes on carnivores, but the echoes dying from a hunter’s rifle in forests of the night. […]
Filled with stars
My first bed was made from wood and Masonite and it was painted blue. I have lucid memories being awake or maybe I should say being awakened, stunned in wonder […]
Too much sacrifice
Erasing self, to keep your social stature is a sacrifice no parent should expect a child to give. … and afterwards… what kind of wild darkness can you pour into […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 