Hmm... Sorry for these boring posts... Boring school makes my mind bored. Bored mind makes boring Abbiss...
I was cleaning my computer and found texts I wrote some years ago... Ideas, society problems, sensations... I still love these things I wrote but I don't have a lot left. Nearly all I wrote during those prolific years disappeared.
The most important thing I wanted to make a book about disappeared too. I think that's what stopped me from writing more. I felt so sad this day. Someone I sent it to found it but I don't know why, it disappeared again. I had been writing it for years and wanted to go on. But now it's over. I wanted to write it again. But it's impossible. All I write is bad now, especially about that, because I'm not living it anymore. I see these facts as really distant from now and from me. My writing about it is now less genuine. I forget things, change some.
May be if it disappeared two times and if nobody kept it because of computer changes and crashes, it's may be because I should forget all this. But I just can't.
I remember my French teacher writing me something like that, before I left her school: "I don't really tell you good bye. I know I'll read a great book from you, with which you'll win the Goncourt price". She is very old now and I'm sad I'll probably never go and visit her with my book before she dies....
I should find inspiration instead of waiting for it...
Pib by 2Shadowland
I was cleaning my computer and found texts I wrote some years ago... Ideas, society problems, sensations... I still love these things I wrote but I don't have a lot left. Nearly all I wrote during those prolific years disappeared.
The most important thing I wanted to make a book about disappeared too. I think that's what stopped me from writing more. I felt so sad this day. Someone I sent it to found it but I don't know why, it disappeared again. I had been writing it for years and wanted to go on. But now it's over. I wanted to write it again. But it's impossible. All I write is bad now, especially about that, because I'm not living it anymore. I see these facts as really distant from now and from me. My writing about it is now less genuine. I forget things, change some.
May be if it disappeared two times and if nobody kept it because of computer changes and crashes, it's may be because I should forget all this. But I just can't.
I remember my French teacher writing me something like that, before I left her school: "I don't really tell you good bye. I know I'll read a great book from you, with which you'll win the Goncourt price". She is very old now and I'm sad I'll probably never go and visit her with my book before she dies....
I should find inspiration instead of waiting for it...
Pib by 2Shadowland
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so you can speak french to me..
it would be easier 4 me.. so just try..