The wandering
It's my fault. I had established a long time ago that when things would go wrong, I’d simply cut myself off from the rest of the world. Remember when I was little? I used to call it “the extinction”. (…) But I'm scared. I think I'm stuck, Lidy. I can't get out of it. (…)
Here I am
Do you think he sees it? That there’s no one on stage, no one is living inside this body anymore. I’m a ghost now, nothing more. The stars called through the window that night, and I almost answered: “Here I am”.
“IF YOU WANT TO WRITE,
if you want to create, you must
be the most sublime fool that God
ever turned out and sent rambling.
You must write
every single day
of your life.
You must read dreadful dumb books,
and glorious books, and
let them wrestle
in beautiful fights inside your head. (…)
I wish you a wrestling match with your
creative Muse that will
last a lifetime.
(…) Which finally means:
May you be in love
every day for the next 20 000 days
and out of that love,
remake the world.
— Ray Bradbury
