GoldenFlowerSecret

                                                                                                                                                                   10/7/2014 Distant horizons. Passing through the borders , i can see something moving: a sparkle of burning sand dancing in front of me. My senses astonished, my face experiencing something unusual, with my skin torn, melted, as if hit by acid molecules. My brain active, lucid awareness disturbing my decline. Now this tense inclination is pushing me down , touching the shapes of the sloping ground. Metamorphosis at large, inchoating.

Corridors open sometimes. Time and space behind. Nothing to fear, the same lying on the ground, apart. Where grounding is over and yourself is not on the horizon , yet. You try to find, you try, an unending curse. But nothing disclosed when desperate acts are being iterated. This is not the way. A different path has to be followed, at least imagined. Lying and facing the usual empasse, entangled, torn. The entrance of the dark forest pulsates. Leave any mark along the sunken  mushroom of memory, surrounded by wet uncertain fears. Tear your skin, the separation towards the oneness. Now it's your turn. No way of escaping.

Hi there, this short article is about my writings and novels. Maybe some of you has noticed that i have started writing different novels and essays and i am developing them at the same time. Well,it's not a trick or a particular personal strategy; it's just that i like starting new stories, as soon as they appear in my mind, helped by my imagination and creativity. So, my own way to proceed with my novels and essays is to keep on developing and writing them , just as weaving some nets, with all their intricacies, complexities, nodes and interferences. Interferences are, indeed, those filaments and ramifications by which all the writings(