White page cramp and laziness
I extend my fingers getting ready to write. It is a procedure, it is ritual. Like on cue, all brilliant beginnings vanish. Gosh, I’d be a well sold published author had I all those writings there are no more.
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Not that I am worrying, but
Am I making any sense?
Black and white New York technicolor blues
To satisfy my hordes of faithful readers I am currently ransacking my folders and files. It might result in a flooding of posts, but who cares about inflation?
The dreams and fears of a little dragon
We’re in the hiding, turning cold post coitus, sharp in not needed replies. A dragon, oh so fierce, but in fact trying so hard to live up to the super-imposed facade, poor scared little baby.
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