image taken by John Picacho A thought at high altitude, turbulent. To write
must do experience. To gain experience necessary to tear our person.
A cut or cuts, straight or cross over the heart, body parts, depending on the type of writing that has brought. The important thing is open, wear and close. The seams of scars are the words on the sheet.
No tricks, except a few tweaks of color. When I write I want the breath of 'adrenaline on the neck. I want the immense chasms. If there are going to try me. I open my things, I make my own, the impoltiglio, I eat and rivomito.
Beware of those who do not make this gesture. Beware of me, if it does not fulfill this task so vital.
In these moments we can understand the story, the writers, their openings. Kafka, for example, when he says that the letters affecting meat and hurt, you change, you upset. I am convinced that more than half of the journalists did not lose a piece of his own person, when he writes.
I want to lose . I'm asking for help to 'environment at this time. I hope that the trees and spit me devour my carcass away from the ego ghost that haunts me.
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