I am waiting and sitting inside the kitchen, I am writing and reading in the same time because I guess maybe I would not have a chance more tomorrow to do anything else except laughing as a stupid mankind, dancing, drinking and answer really silly questions about how i did take my dog to another country.
A pan and a pot are heating on the stove and my husband is gaming. I several times have taught about starting writing novel again after many years. But I should be realistic; I mean the environment and the available facility and the most important piece of this puzzle actually having a great teacher are those I do not have, right now. As same as the past. In contrast writing is such a permanent desire that I never have been able to give it up. I really feel I stuck.
I know even my posts this blog are awful from the beginning till the end. But there is no way it is all my best to be in touch with writing.