No Place Like Home! + Tiny Story! :)

This week has been hell!

Not only did every university subject of mine demand work from me, but I had to wake up 5AM every single morning! I wasn’t tired, I was exhausted!

This morning was the last morning that I would wake up that early, because I am finally, only for a week, at home in KZN (KwaZulu-Natal for non-South Africans). The feeling of being home would have been more amazing if I wasn’t so freakin’ tired!

I think you guys know what that means ;)… Okay, me neither…

Oh wait! I know! It means I will be able to write! πŸ˜€ Something I haven’t done in what feels like forever! Oh yeah! B)

I’ll even try to write something now! Hmmm… Let’s see… What about this:


Licking stamps is like licking curiosity. That is what Piff realized as he licked the stamp that would change everything. It’s a strange feeling, he thought as his tongue tongue touched the semi-sticky surface. It was a taste he couldn’t put his finger on. He knew that it was basically just some sort of glue, but there was something very peculiar about it.

What if, he thought holding the wet stamp between his fingers, what if a small part of my soul is absorbed by the stamp? It would make sense. You’re already smearing it with your spit. So what if the stamp does act as some sort of spiritual soul catcher that is activated by your spit? Then it would mean that you are sending a bit of your soul to someone. Maybe someone special. They would have a piece of your soul to keep forever. It would make sense, if you think about it.

But what if, Piff thought, stamp close to the envelope, what if the letter never reaches that special someone? Suddenly the idea of the letter seemed very sad. If the letter never reaches that someone, then that someone would never truly know how he feels. The piece of his soul would then endlessly drift into nothingness, without any hope of a recipient. No one would then know how he feels. What is the point of the letter then? What is the point indeed?

Piff sat in deep thought, with the slightly wet stamp starting to stick to his finger. To send or not to send? That is his question. Sending it may lead to never being understood, and not sending it would mean he’d still have all of him to himself. However, not sending it would put him in the same position he has been in for a long while. Am I really that afraid of moving? He must decide, and do it soon. The stamp won’t stay sticky for long.

I think…

I think I’ll take my chances!

Very curious indeed…


I hope you liked that little morsel of a story! πŸ™‚ I wanted to write it, because I wanted to show that I am capable of creativeness every now and again. It was a very peculiar experience writing it.

This story is a strong example of my crazy train of thought and what processes goes on in my head when I think of a story.

It started out as an idea: a stamp tastes really strange. Really, that was all I thought about, but as I started writing it, it took a surprise turn on me and I found a depth that I didn’t expect to find. Suddenly the story related to me on a very strong emotional level. I actually felt a little emotionally exhausted after writing it.

There is a lot of little hidden meanings that only I would recognize or understand, but maybe you could see them.

A Challenge: Try to guess what I REALLY meant with this story. With this I mean, try to guess the story behind the story. Comment below (those few people who actually read this) and if you guess close enough, I would… hmmm… I would draw you a little sketch thing of whatever you like (as long it’s not too difficult).

I am actually very interested now to see what people think the story behind the story is…

Anyway, I think this week will be a very interesting one… πŸ™‚

‘Till later…



About Gay Idiot

I'm a gay idiot, but somehow I am making it through this jungle called life. I have no idea what I'm doing!!
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