I had an idea for a horror story called 1991 but just ended up writing a poem instead, enjoy: 1991 The year horror takes shape another...

It can sometimes feel like the fire is going out. Run down. Lost. The world has no passion or color left in it. It's all been worn down...

If there's anything physics teaches us it's that the very act of measuring something, of observing it, of discovery itself, changes...