Watch it and click like for my little sister Franca

Dealing with the truth*

I am a writer and I have a blog which I started last year but because I lack the time to write I stopped posting articles. I was definitely thinking about restarting my project and it was only by coincidence that Franca and I got in contact, she is in the UK and I’m in Peru, the Incas’ Land. In order to contribute to her blog we thought it might be a good idea to write about parenting, which is a subject I know about, but at the same time one difficult to manage because my own story is completely different from what you might expect. I thought, I cannot talk about love and caring for a child after what I have been through in my life, so I better be open about it and deal with it. Things are, one way or another different, but nevertheless unique and I consider that what happened to me was unique. Here is my story. I received a call about 10 years ago from a recent ex-girlfriend, she suggested going for a walk to talk. I said yes, ok, let’s do it. She told me something I wa...

Inconveniently coming out to the outside world

Recently, probably a year or more, I have become an ultra-secluded human being, by own choice and by no means resulting in a revolutionary state of mind, anarchy against the world or any other fantasy that one can imagine. I was just tired of not being myself, of trying to do what others expect me to do, instead of doing what I want to do or what I like to do, or whatever the hell I wanted to do. So I was free for a while, at least that was what I thought. I enjoyed every second of it, just like a boy sucks the honey from his fingers after eating pancakes with his bare hands, oh!, what a pleasure! Here I am, I can write but my right hand is still hurting from a tendinitis, one more illness to my suffered skeleton. I can do most things like washing plates, shower, clean up my apartment but after a few minutes it just hurts a little too much. Well, it was worst a couple of weeks ago; I was really crying, literally crying out loud because I could not bear the pain. So I guess I am becom...

A Writer Dealing with Depression

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