Souls who Drifted off Along the Path
From one psychiatric ward hospitalization to the next, or after a stay in a rehab facility, and after each suicide attempt – fate ends up
You didn't find this site.
You followed something. A scent.
A sentence. A trace of someone who isn’t real, and yet more honest than anyone you've ever met.
This space isn’t for knowing. It’s for watching.
If you're here, you’re already inside.
“I want him to cry blood and smear it on my skin.”
about oz
LIFE IS A BITCH
ABOUT OZ
Gold doesn’t write stories. He writes consequences. A voice forged in survival, obsession, and queer longing — translated into the shape of a book. Behind the pages lives a builder, a speaker, a shadow who dared to name what others keep buried.
THE BOOKS
Written in first person, soaked in blood, silence, and sex, Through Flesh is a literary monologue that bleeds
through the line between fiction and confession.
A man survives abuse. Lives through male prostitution.
Walks into psychiatric hospitals.
But that’s not the plot.
The plot is language. The plot is skin.
Every sentence a breath. Every page, an unflinching look into the hunger to feel something — anything — again.
reviews
You didn't find this site.
You followed something. A scent.
A sentence. A trace of someone who isn’t real, and yet more honest than anyone you've ever met.
This space isn’t for knowing. It’s for watching.You didn't find this site.
You followed something. A scent.
A sentence. A trace of someone who isn’t real, and yet more honest than anyone you've ever met.
This space isn’t for knowing. It’s for watching.
hagay
Reality Check
Once again I collided with reality like a deer on a dark road facing a speeding car. For two months now, the book has been
WTF
I’ve no idea how long I’ve been floating in the air like this, but the needle still hasn’t moved , still just two copies sold
Dear Diary
I’ll keep calling you “my dear diary” until I get any indication that I’m writing to an audience – likes, comments, anything. At least the
hello
I don’t even know who I’m writing to anymore.To those still hesitating?To those who’ve already read it?To myself? Either way , once again (for the
Buddhist challenge
What a Buddhist challenge I’m going through. Publishing a book is truly like giving birth. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for