Writing is giving up yourself, and showing who you would be in an ideal world, not a world that is the quintessence of paradise, but a world that fits seamlessly to the cravings of your imagination. Some people need that. Take me, for example, it really picks me up from whereever I get stuck and puts me back on track. Here in Istanbul I enjoy being a tourist, walking around the old structures of the city taking pictures and retreating in a coffee place all afternoon to write and communicate. And I enjoy the company of my very friendly hosts. Can't I be brave anymore and write about real thinks instead of giving a standard tourist account? Quack. Quack. I promise I'll dabble for something better.
Showing posts with label Quack Quack. Show all posts.
October 23. Dabbling.
Taking the ferry to Eminönü, walking around the big bazaar, spotting some more mosques and working on the blogs. I like the atmosphere in this city. When I have time, I'll write some more of that experimental stuff I used to publish here. Used to be a lot of fun.
Writing is giving up yourself, and showing who you would be in an ideal world, not a world that is the quintessence of paradise, but a world that fits seamlessly to the cravings of your imagination. Some people need that. Take me, for example, it really picks me up from whereever I get stuck and puts me back on track. Here in Istanbul I enjoy being a tourist, walking around the old structures of the city taking pictures and retreating in a coffee place all afternoon to write and communicate. And I enjoy the company of my very friendly hosts. Can't I be brave anymore and write about real thinks instead of giving a standard tourist account? Quack. Quack. I promise I'll dabble for something better.
Writing is giving up yourself, and showing who you would be in an ideal world, not a world that is the quintessence of paradise, but a world that fits seamlessly to the cravings of your imagination. Some people need that. Take me, for example, it really picks me up from whereever I get stuck and puts me back on track. Here in Istanbul I enjoy being a tourist, walking around the old structures of the city taking pictures and retreating in a coffee place all afternoon to write and communicate. And I enjoy the company of my very friendly hosts. Can't I be brave anymore and write about real thinks instead of giving a standard tourist account? Quack. Quack. I promise I'll dabble for something better.
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