Writing … and writing … cause somehow i was actually believing i get rid of this sickness i am feeling … while near her.
And … to make you laugh while introducing to my writings … i should probably mention that right into this morning this damn woman … I’ve written so, so many times about … told me … “You're like a hysterical woman on her period—except yours never ends.”
So … i’ve smiled.
Then laughed.
She was probably right … but the real meaning of those words was that … she saw me from a totally different perspective today.
Disliking me.
Illusory believing it’s her fundamental right to disrespect me … cause …
Aha … i wasn’t really worthy of her respect.
Not today.
Or … not anymore.
But …
Well … things were as they were.
And still are.
For sure … nothing will change quite soon.
Not with me.
Because … i still feel sick.
I mean … intoxicated of this stupid woman which i call poetically … Madame Charade.
Writing as a form of self therapy … hoping it’s the last book of a series of more than 100 books about her.
The conclusion?!
I guess … it’s all about studying the nonsense which is stamped in front of my face … and revealed of all my actions.
Being nothing than a clown … which is actually claiming that is … a writer.
I’ve started to write my first book at 16 … but then … realizing i could not publish it … i’ve abandoned the idea of being a … writer.
20 years later … i’ve started to write again … believing i will finally succeed … but i’ve failed one more time … not getting the success i was chasing for.
Another 5 years later … i’ve started one more time to write … but this time … more as a therapy.
It’s what i’ve defined as … self therapy.
I was analyzing and defining lots of weird ideas … that were a lot related to me … and my own soul.
I totally forgot that i was chasing for success.
I was simple writing my thoughts … in essays … becoming this way … maybe not a writer …. but what many define as … an essayist.
This is not a poet … and not a writer.
Or maybe is kind of a poet that is incapable of writing poetry … but is still expressing his thoughts … into a similar way …
as a poet.
And is not a writer … cause have not the ability to write for too long time … about the same subject.
But maybe i am not an essayist… either.
I am just an ordinary person … that could be better defined … as a thinker.
Analyzing … and defining my life … practicing this process called … self therapy … i started to understand life … and the way to better paths which i should follow.
And i’ve wrote … and wrote … and wrote … realizing one day that i’ve published tens of books …. not really understanding how the hell I’ve succeeded doing that.
Today i dare to recommend writing … as a therapy.
I could even say … it’s a simple way of understanding who we are … but also a process that could help us … heal our souls.
I personally continue to … write.
It’s in fact … a non ending story that … at least for myself … will probably continue for the rest of my life.
But over all … i am glad … i am doing it.
I continue my philosophical journey … not being able to define myself for clear as a writer or an essayist… but …
Well …. most probably… i am on a good path.
And … i would dare to recommend to everyone … all what i am doing today.