Many days past away without to write anything. Too many perhaps? I ask myself; but in a while I realize there is no timetable to this kind of things.
Nonetheless I would to have something to talk about, but nothing comes out from my soul in these stupid gloomy rainy days.
It's raining... It does it as we were in november out of there and, if my mind were not bored by some urgent thoughts, I know I could be glad of this. But my mynd IS bored by urgent thoughts!
Ever since I was 13 years old I'd have liked to write something: a short story, a novel; anything one cannot define a technical work. I tried and tried but simply I was not able, and the best I got was a long narration of facts: a sort of listing of things, a recipe. I don't know what!
I don't know why.
It was so frustrating and I felt so unmighty.
That sensation emerges now again that I would to write something to calm down my soul and cast a light on my thoughts. But I can't (well my choose to do it in a language that's not my mother tongue does not get the things easier. I see).
Perhaps I've just to wait: out the rain has almost finished to come down meanwhile.
Perhaps my inspiration will finish to come away...
Nonetheless I would to have something to talk about, but nothing comes out from my soul in these stupid gloomy rainy days.
It's raining... It does it as we were in november out of there and, if my mind were not bored by some urgent thoughts, I know I could be glad of this. But my mynd IS bored by urgent thoughts!
Ever since I was 13 years old I'd have liked to write something: a short story, a novel; anything one cannot define a technical work. I tried and tried but simply I was not able, and the best I got was a long narration of facts: a sort of listing of things, a recipe. I don't know what!
I don't know why.
It was so frustrating and I felt so unmighty.
That sensation emerges now again that I would to write something to calm down my soul and cast a light on my thoughts. But I can't (well my choose to do it in a language that's not my mother tongue does not get the things easier. I see).
Perhaps I've just to wait: out the rain has almost finished to come down meanwhile.
Perhaps my inspiration will finish to come away...
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