Writing
It turns out hard to write! It turns out hard to write poetry, stories or whatever I want to write!
Last night, I've started to type a short story and after two pages it got deleted! I will not go further on details, names, dates, but yep, this happens! Yep, it has happened: the short story has been triggered by a message on Facebook and I've go throught that thinking about people. It would be a rude, dirty, kinky story and I have started to think that I would have to change the whole concept of it, so that lots of blood and torture could be included! But nah... It got deleted!
In my poetry, I also write about people! I write about events, without great details! I write about life! The more important is to live and only then to write: without living, I wouldn't have anything to write about! If I went to write about my feelings only, it would be a neverending weeping-bible and that's not the point... that's not my point at all!
It's time to end up here... one hour has gone by and I haven't been able to do much, except to spend the money!
It turns out hard to write, when your mind is filled with many other things! When people are annoying you, you can always kill them in your stories. When people are too fussy, you can rape them in your stories. You can do whatever you want to them, like I do!
And someday, you might even read my dedicatory for all of you... Maybe!
Last night, I've started to type a short story and after two pages it got deleted! I will not go further on details, names, dates, but yep, this happens! Yep, it has happened: the short story has been triggered by a message on Facebook and I've go throught that thinking about people. It would be a rude, dirty, kinky story and I have started to think that I would have to change the whole concept of it, so that lots of blood and torture could be included! But nah... It got deleted!
In my poetry, I also write about people! I write about events, without great details! I write about life! The more important is to live and only then to write: without living, I wouldn't have anything to write about! If I went to write about my feelings only, it would be a neverending weeping-bible and that's not the point... that's not my point at all!
It's time to end up here... one hour has gone by and I haven't been able to do much, except to spend the money!
It turns out hard to write, when your mind is filled with many other things! When people are annoying you, you can always kill them in your stories. When people are too fussy, you can rape them in your stories. You can do whatever you want to them, like I do!
And someday, you might even read my dedicatory for all of you... Maybe!
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