Writing again. It has been almost 3 long years, but finally I can write again. It usually happens as my life turns hard to live, I reach a pen (or a keyboard) and start writing writing writing. Most of the time about bullshits, some kind of opening-to-myself diary.
This time it seems to be different, I think I want so much to escape from reality I even started writing a novel. An awful one, well always about L.O.V.E., that scary thing in reality, but so easy and beautiful in romantic novels and images.
Well it happens to be very easy to make up a story and it is pretty curious how I even do not know what will come next till I write down the words.
Since I'm living my "life" inside two rooms it seems I can't get any chance to make photos...
I need sun and warm.
Outside it's snowing. Damn' I hate cold.
Untile three days ago I whished I was somewhere else, such as... Cuba... Well now at least I'm in the right continent.
Damn' it's hard to live.