There is a thin line
between the work and the fun
sharp, making me bleed.
That was a haiku. Sometimes I really don´t know if my writing is my work or my interest. I am writing every single day, and will do so – keep it up – till I get that book out there for you all to read. And then, I will write another one. And another. I work hard with it, sometimes twisting the words out of my mind. But then, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, eager to write down a word, a sentence, or even a haiku.
You cannot make money out of an unpublished book. But then again, this is the one and only thing I do – I write. So is it my job, my interest, or maybe a way of living? I know one thing for sure – it is the spirit of my soul, the spirit of me.