French and English writer and screenwriter, I let words flow through me, stories unravel and creative intuition lead me.
Sci-Fi, supernatural, political, spiritual, magical realism, travel, poetry, channeled writing, stream of consciousness.
A ray of sunshine tickled my eyelids. A wake-up call. Back to Earth, back to reality. It was a lovely spring day; one of those days you dream about all winter long. The sun, clouds, a lovely breeze, birds chirping, flowers growing… Yet, my heart wasn’t singing in harmony with the elements. Had it ever? I had ended up again on one of the hills near Arthur’s Seat, my feet carrying, guiding me, tears and thoughts intertwining in the chaos of my soul. I was lost. If not physically, metaphorically. Spikes from low bushes were piercing my jeans. They might as well have punctured my brain, my heart, my veins. Who was I? Where was I going? What was the point of all this? And every day, the same questions, the same angst, the same worries. Over and over again. It was exhausting to be me. I wish all these thoughts would disappear, flow out of me in a tidal wave, leaving me empty, numb, but finally at peace.