
Today I will sit in the dark and stare at the lights.
Tomorrow I will write.

writing.translation.photo
Today I will sit in the dark and stare at the lights.
Tomorrow I will write.
Masturbationtory writing… is not writing about masturbation, it’s the act of writing about anything at all that essentially represents an act of mental masturbation to the person doing the writing. If you actually allow yourself to realise it. Or you might not, and continue telling yourself that you’re just writing.
my brain likes to mis-read and mis-write words a lot
think food and write door
see liked and read killed
… but even I think that mixing up Astrophysics and Aphrodisiacs is a first
my defense is that they do have a lot of same letters, yes.
tough pillow to swallow
I especially liked the stupid ways in which people manage to die.
Like drowning in ankle-deep water or by trying to wash hands in a well.
‘Like’ is the wrong word. But you get what I mean.
Of course I’m not the only one who is trying to write this book. I’m trying to write it with all of me. With every me that got buried over the years and who’s memories I took so much care to burn every time. It is the only way to do right by them. Do right by me.
Write a scene to this.
I come from a family tree of witches, noblemen and monsters.
Of course I’ll write fantasy.
Chicken soul for the soup
oh god.
I’m not wrong… but still, oh god
When I’m on roll.
when your typos make more sense than what you were trying to write…
OmmWriter app
a way to make you keep your screen clean of fingerprints and stuff.
Today,
writing is like untangling those strings from a tightly-tangled ball, before even attempting to weave them into any sort of fabric.
Sometimes I feel like writing is building a huge puzzle from few thousand pieces without knowing the final picture.
Sometimes I feel that it is like building a living body in baby steps, assembling the bones on the first draft, then connecting the nerves, the muscles, adding some meat, some blood with every next editing, and finally skin, and colour before it is ready to become its own seperate being.
Sometimes I feel that it is like having a thousand of colourful strings and trying to weave a tapestry having no idea how to do it.
I can’t use my writing to get the bad blood out of myself.
Because I need my writing to be my good blood.
But then I suffer a lot from the need to get the bad blood out somehow and not knowing how…