I don't write! That's what I always say, because I can't, I just can't. I once could when I was a child. I would write story after story, but then one day ... nothing. I have no idea what happend or exactely when, but everything was just gone. Since then the only thing I can do to awake my stories again is daydreaming, often to the extend that I forget reality even though I'm about to cross a street or sit in one of my lectures.
I had one time where I could write again, nothing much, it ended in five poems, well for me they are. I have no idea what literary critiques would label it (although I am one too, but I never went with the masses).
That was in January and April 2003.
Whereas the one I wrote in January of 2003 was about my first big love (one sided and quite strange) and how we met the others where about the aftermath.
And then there is "Longings", which I wrote after a disastrous clash with my mother (although it can be see as much more).
And this is how I'm feeling today.
( It's in German so ... )
Sascha once told me that after meeting me for the first time, he had looked over my homepage (the one I had a that time) and actually analyzed and interpreted the poems. I never saw what he wrote and I don't think I want to know.
( What google translated and I adjusted )
The German is still better.
einblubbern und das 'schwenglishe' Äquivalent to blubber it in - Beschreibt den Vorgang des Einwickelns in Bläschenfolie.
Manchmal glaube ich Sascha will mich umbringen. Ich hab keine Ahnung wie der Mann auf solche Wörter kommt, aber scheinbar sind die im Geschäft alle so. *headdesk*
Sascha ist ein Genie in Sachen neue Wörter erfinden.