Strange, how everything starts up with powering up Microsoft Word and start typing. I  remember, back in my high school times, the nights with my IBM selectric typewriter (costing me one year of school jobs and allowance)). Watch it clacking and spinning while typing , the desktop enlighted by my little designer lamp that my godfather granted me (which costs a fortune ) and a chaotic sea of books around me. Books everywhere and a lot of whispering poems, essays and tractates in my head.. I wrote nearly every night, feverish, obsessed by books and typewriters, editing and publishing whatever was in my head, in my typing fingers and in my desktop drawer.It was my own little universe.

Hair grown long get cut short and live goes on.