Roxana-Mălina Chirilă


Coffee, milk and whipped cream

It’s what I need after last night. It’s not that I went to bed at 2 AM after playing around with tanks in one of the most memory-greedy games on my computer (I suspect with every update it leaves stuff it doesn’t need anymore lying about). It’s not that I looked at all the courses I’ve abandoned on Coursera and got a headache. No. It’s the fact that I had a nightmare.

Steampunk apocalyptic dreams

I had this crazy, complicated dream last night. Of which I can barely remember anything, which is a problem since I can remember the plot was awesome and the settings were so perfect they could make Hollywood cry. I’m talking about huge buildings with their walls crumbling off and their metal structures rusting in the sun. About vines taking over depopulated neighborhoods, growing impossibly green against reddish rubble, against metallic glints of bared pillars.