I wrote this when I was sixteen. I daresay it's unreadable. And yet I want the world to read it. I'm not sure I care to analyse the psychology behind that.

Table of Contents

Quite Useless

I wrote this when I was sixteen. I daresay it's unreadable. And yet I want the world to read it. I'm not sure I care to analyse the psychology behind that. Read Chapter

There are those, seemingly void of humanity's precious flaws and weaknesses, whom have constantly and confidently declared that nothing s... Read Chapter

In MacLaine's apartment Bertram had a glass of wine and tried to express himself more eloquently, lest an instance of him screeching inco... Read Chapter

He knocked back his drink quickly. As the music changed to either another work or another musician, Bertram heard a sharp noise from behi... Read Chapter

Finding a pencil in the same pocket, he wrote “Music without minstrels. Tunes interesting but words often abominable. Courting between ... Read Chapter

“He’s around the corner,” Ingrid alerted the girl in the pink shirt. She smiled with semi-serious nervousness. “I think he’s be... Read Chapter

A life long history of dilemmas arising from the misapplication of clear instructions reminded Bertram to leave some money on the desk in... Read Chapter

Bertram would always remember the exact street he was on and the two buildings that stood on either side of him when he first saw the tow... Read Chapter

“Do you know, you’re perfectly right. It may not be a pleasant experience, but I must get around Paris as much as I can over the next... Read Chapter