Morning violence
‘You're nothing but a coward’, I hear myself saying. A stillborn thing, hidden, all alone, curled up inside. I laugh when I talk about things that don't interest me (…)
La chica del gas
Barcelone n’est pas comme je l’avais imaginée. Bondée, bruyante et sans trêve. Quoi qu’il arrive, jamais une trêve. En sortant le matin à l’heure de pointe, on a l’impression d’avoir été englouti par la bête. (…)
La chica del gas
Barcelona isn't what I imagined. Crowded, noisy, and relentless. No matter what, it never takes a break. Going out in the morning during rush hour feels like being swallowed by the beast. (…)
