There is a sun, anyway. For a couple of days, a small bird has sitting on my shoulder, and told me that, I need to fly out of my nest. It’s six years since I’ve wrote an article or a review. Instead of that, I’ve mostly written poetry and nothing in my novel.
When I’m thinking on it, I know I’ve so much to tell. I’ve two drafts of novel stories in my head, but have only one of them on paper, far from ready to be send to the publishing company. In meanwhile, I’ve time for write both articles, reviews and still write a lot of poetry.
What am I waiting for?
Photo: Me on stage – a character in the
play: Arsenic and Old Lace