There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. ~Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith

after all of the craziness lately I enjoyed spending a quiet rainy weekend just to come down and dwell in the luxury of reading whatever I want, writing whatever I feel like and drinking wine for the right reasons rather than drowning doubtful thoughts in my glasses.

I attended a public lecture on saturday and beyond the admiration I have for someone who puts himself out there with a text to be judged and finally win a literary award I realized that writing, as liberating as it is in the process of its making, always makes an author vulnerable and fragile as soon as published.
people will hold you to account for an issue as soon as you wrote down a word concerning it.
with themes like euthanasia this is very difficult especially since the author of a literate text, besides possibly reading up on it, is not neccessarily a professional of his topic.
additionally, writing always has facets of the very personal, the hidden in it. a text holds some part of your personality that would not normally be exposed but is free for everyone to judge then.
maybe this is why I never did poetry slam. or actually wrote here before.
I mean I obviously write but I don´t think I ever published any of my literary pieces.
I might stop holding back now and see where it takes me because really this is what I love and if anything in life, doing what you love makes sense to me.
wearing promod dress as a shirt. diy cutoffs. random jewelry and shoes via ebay.

p.s.: don´t tell me off for the picture quality. I know, I know.