Back soon!
Writing has been a bit slow lately. New content will find its way to IMSM soon!
Books? Great medicine!
All joking aside, I cannot even begin to count the number of books I have read since childhood or how many I handled while working in a library. Books become part of life, a friend I will remember forever, a gateway or hiding place where distraction reigns. Just holding them, turning page after page, waiting to be explored, conquered, talked about and put on a shelf waiting to be taken out again. And so the cycle begins again.
The virtue of books
Writing is cathartic, it empties your mind of needless clutter and thoughts that make you feel unhappy, unheard. I started writing as a way to deal with an illness that cannot be cured, but it turned into much more: a passion, a craze. If you write for the right reasons, you add value to your life. If you do not write to get published, and you’re not looking for recognition or fame, then you’re writing because you have to write. You just need to write. You cannot but write. Acknowledgement is nice, but it is not why I sit down with an empty, white page in front of me; it is not my goal. I write because I want to share. Where a painter picks up his brush, I have…
Welcome to the book fetish club!
“There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.” (Joseph Brodsky) There’s no certainty in life anymore. You can lose your job… just like that; you can be so stressed your heart starts beating much too fast or you can end up in fights even when you tried so hard to avoid having words. But then… there’s your bookcase. That tall, sturdy oak piece of furniture that holds secrets, explains wars, teaches you a foreign language, helps you relax or take you to some imaginary world you wished you could live in. I can sit in my living room, bedroom or any other place where I have books lying around and just look at those books. Enjoy their silence even when their characters scream for…
