I write about dreams, the radiant embers illuminating my life, the most comfortable escape, warm, inviting, my most gentle refuge, floating in my untouchable, pristine, personal reveries.
I write of reality, bitter and relentless as the winter wind, that haunts the soul and drains me of ambition and hope. It gnaws at my senses, leaving me hollow and trembling in its wake.
I write about the difference and distance between the two. The dissonance, of regrets that cling like ivy, of what-ifs and quiet sorrows that linger long after dawn.
I write with a flow. A primal urge, a pressure and pain that needs a release, in words.
I am a story teller. Wondrous and mysterious.
I am also an expert in technical documentation since that’s core part of my work. Haha.
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