Eric Shaw is twenty-three and mindblowing. Typing letters to anonymous people, to never won lovers, to future and past situations was never more appealing until I ran into him. I scrolled over and saw through the lines so many arms looking to snatch out the vertigo, so many lips eager to suck out the degeneration, so many fists ready to cage the torment. It’s a blog about love and every other lifetime.

This last one is my favourite.

His book was published last year.

Oh, and did I say everyone’s invited to write?