Why do I write?
Why is it public?(since it does not have continuity or an obvious subject except a self introspection, rather mediocre literary speaking)
Its of course narcisism why should I be the exception? It was a lot of rage back when… It was also lots of solitude or rather loneliness.There were many other feelings and memories jumping on me at all the wrong moments that I did not know how to quiet in other way than writing about them.
I had to write about the rage, the impotency and the cries on a very concrete plan. With dates, names and too many painful details. So after I had to do that in real life I pretended, therapeutically, to come back, to have a completely diferent perspective about the exact same things. And for that real purpose, having my feelings documented here made me be accurate to a t there. It made me remember even if I wanted to forget, never forgive.
It was mostly hard to navigate a rather gothic reality or a kafkian one (if well, I remember my too much preppy self.)
From outside it always seemed perfect. For some reason or because I have the habit of just going on.
So I evaded into writing on how I felt about mundane day to day occurences. I tried to find words for beauty or for simplicity. I wanted to make wishes come true by jokingly having them described here in childish and very naive details.
The strength its built on how we get up after each failure.
Here, I had all my failures described in their anatomical detail-for remembrance and to never repeat. I left the victories for outside.
It was a survival tool. Sometimes I thought it was the only one I had. I was of course wrong. The more I looked, the more I found within me and within people around innumerable resources and chances to grow and to live.
Looking back I can say it was a journey out of hell with many falls and even harder comebacks.
It feels good to be at safe. Finally.
And im thankfull, no, not like in the upcomming Oscar ceremonies but for real.
to Memer that taught me innocence and unconditional love.
to R and S that were so kind to me all this way. Sometimes strangers are becoming family and family becomes estranged….
To my bff J. We went through so much bs together that we could write 50 soaps and even more paperback cheap motivational books.Surprisingly we are both alive and kicking, in style.LOL. I hope you will understand one day my introvert social nature that needs time to plan things to detail and to recharge. Its never personal, its a big ego and need of privacy. Thats why we get along so well. Oposites attract.
To mr. B because he is honest and gave me huge legal support and guidance through this complicated jurney on the edge.
To a gentleman that I wrote about between oh so many lines that changed so much in so little time.
To Frank that gave me hope, Christmas, days, nights, hashbrowns and eggs, kisses some more kisses, many many kisses(did I say I like good kissers?! Lol) and way more than words can describe.
To many people that I met in unnexpected ocasions and became friends.
To my dad. To my mom.
And last to the people that got the worse out of me, that made me know myself beyond any limits I had known before.
And now I should start writing about anything else but myself. If I will ever write anything else than food recipes. Lol, who am I kidding here? I have the bug if not the talent and that might suffice in this case. We leave the art to Franzen…