In the age of emails, regular mail and handwritten notes become something of a sacred object. If a person put enough effort to hand-write now it means a great deal.

When I need to figure out my thoughts, I write. Not in a blog but on a paper. And I feel how poisonous thoughts, diluting veins from inside, leave the body, with only slight long-awaited feeling of emptiness and smell of cedar oil with mint.

Choking on blood OR lucid dreaming as assistance to writers

Mouth was filled with a familiar sensation of blood. That wasn’t even funny anymore. One thing when a gum bleeds a bit and tongue’s end feels the taste, and absolutely another – when there’s so much blood you start to search for a sink to spit in.

As I was running down the hall of the apartment where I used to live 10 years ago I was feeling nauseous from the iron-ish taste. I couldn’t understand Dracula’s “blood is life” since it seemed so disgusting. “I wonder how my blood’s taste would change with my diet” – I though on a by-the-way note.