A cleaning lady, who dared to commit as a profession to this horrific stereotype assigned to her through foreign gazes, with that losing her connection to the origin of those stereotypes, her femininity. A failure of an author in a bad mood, who was trying to write a satire, but fell victim to her own melancholy. Who will win? The failure. The failure wins, this is not a satire.

In a Country draped in darkness and governed by an unyielding regime, one of its citizens is visited by an unlikely guest. She is given a chance to escape. There is one big obstacle in her way, though - a huge wall of barbed wire known only as "the Border". The journey she embarks upon unravels truths about her past, and the nature of the Country itself. Will she make it to the other side? Or be caught by cruel guards and perish? This is a story of defiance, will and perseverance.

When I was ten, I met someone, in a cold forest, not far outside my town. He told me he was an unicorn, and that he could show me paradise. Looking back he mightve been the snake in my garden eden, slithering out of the bushes and leading me towards temptation, but I was nine and so I believed him. When I was ten, someone told me that paradise, was not something to be found, sitting stiffly in the garden, no matter how pretentiously pretty it was. She gave me wings and told me to fly over the garden wall, to find paradise outside it. I was ten, so I believed her. When I was eleven, someone showed me my blood and made me admire the red of it. A year later, I drowned them in it. Considering everything I was, am and have been (naive, cruel, nothing), I suppose my story went about as great as I could have expected. They gave me an apple and I ate it. They told me it would bring about paradise and I believed them. They left me to die and I did. I just wish I could regret it.

Do you claim to be alive by the criteria of existence or do you merely breathe? "Frame of Mind: Ennui" opens doors to discourses on the perception of reality, the idea of interweaving threads of life and, primarily, the myriad thalassic layers of the ocean of our very own consciousness.

At first, Food was joy, comfort, and happiness. Mom's cupcakes, popsicles from the grocery store and Christmas dinner. Then you grow up and food is fear, sadness, and anger. Sweaty nights on the exercise bike, grumbling stomachs and tears on your cheek. Will you ever learn that food is really just food?

Henry Miller has a self-centered view of the world around him, and a very prominent disdain towards his co-star and nemesis Jane Audley - known primarily for her beautiful looks and despicable personality. He thinks it would kill her to go a day without an outburst. She thinks that under different circumstances they couldve been the closest of friends, had they only given each other a chance. So often did Jane want to say or do something differently - say or do something - anything - at all, but baring her emotions so honestly was out of the question. Though, there was one she could show. Anger. The only exception she could make. And she was waiting for someone to understand it. Perhaps by the end of it all he wouldve smiled at her face, and not her grave. And she would have found the courage to smile back as well, with honesty. And they would have realized that they were never so different from one another after all.