My Liberation Day.

Photo by Elena Pasca http://www.elenapasca.com/

I'm sipping the hell out of my morning coffee. One more search for ''The Heit Report'' in catalogus of Amsterdam's Central Library and I can start writing (damn report, I'll have to buy you instead of waiting for any kind of move from the librarians!).

Last weekend I left my dark, cold cave of unnecessary lack of confidence and I shared my most intimate works with other participants of writing workshop.
Workshop itself was as wonderful as my imagination assumed it will be, however what is more important, I was in one room for 6 hours each day with other women who try to make their way in life, through expressing reality in words and most likely- publishing it online. I know that bloggers community can be seen as teenage girls who post bunch of crap on facebook each day (including pictures of their breakfasts, cats and sunsets), but that's not the whole story.
I met women who write professional blogs, who share their most intimate experiences, who treat writing as a kind of therapy, who are gifted with choosing the most wonderful words and phrases just to tell you about their day. It is art, in my opinion, to make least exciting subjects sound beautiful.
All you hear from people these days is noise. Insecurity which can't be hidden behind your fresh H&M outfit or lunch you've just bought at a fancy-pretending-not-to-be-fancy-at all lunch room.
Imagine yourself carefully choosing each word to build your sentences. It's like an OCD; it's impossible to stay away from the need to express yourself in an unique most precise and accurate way.
I don't want to make you read crap about how my heels didn't match my purse.
I want to interest you in reading crap about my imperfect life decisions. I want to be honest with you and provide embarrassment, awkwardness and shame. All of it I want to serve on a silver platter of carefully chosen constructions. And yes, I will still cry over my lack of knowledge in the field of English grammar, but I will keep on writing until you'll get sick of it.
In my last post I have shared with you something really intimate, and let's be honest- I am not happy about the impact of it. Like I mentioned, few of my friends asked me to post my erotic writing example. And I did. And I've heard nothing from any of the people, who'd been curious to read it.
Of course, it's a blog and it gets acknowledged or not. But you know what's my greatest hope when I publish anything? Any kind of feedback. Maybe you don't know what a 'feedback' is, so I will explain it to you on behalf of my future posts. Feedback is when you let me know, what did you think after seeing what I've served you here. It is some kind of a commentary that you could at least send me in a private message. I don't care for statistics, fb comments or those damn ''likes''. I want you to tell me, how did Martha's Wellington story affect your view on my writing.

My boyfriend always tells me that it is not important to get feedback and that I should write for myself.
I will tel you one thing only. I write since I was 7 years old. I've always had hundreds of notebooks to create my stories there. I had many blogs, I've always succeeded  in my polish language school essays as writing has always been my passion. The thing is, that I was writing for myself throughout almost all my life. After many years of hiding my poems, stories, song lyrics and other drafts from the eyes of the outside world- I've finally found a secure platform to crate and post my work occasionally. And it's all O.K. if you don't find it amusing. But when I'm being asked to share something- then yes, yes I do wait for your damn feedback.
I've been teased and called a perv by my dear friend, however it doesn't relate to my work. I feel like I was pushed and now I can't get my balance back.
But it's alright, because I found a diferent way to get it back.
I discovered that all the time I wanted to find my 'thing', I was passing it by and didn't even see it's there. I will tell you, even if you're not interested. It's simply one's sexuality. It's the depths of your nature, which I know has something dark about it, for sure. I don't understand why you're ashamed of your desires or fantasies- and I really want you to make me understand. Let's push some boundaries. And then I will tell you, your shame is ridiculous because your sexuality is a huge part of you.
Yes- it's all new to me, yes- I'm reading Freud and searching for books on sexual deviations or simply books which were important for the subject of discovering or re- interpreting sex.

I feel liberated. Absolutely. And it's a feeling I've been longing for so long.

But enough about that.

Things are going great. More workshops to come, writers meetup group as well.
Few things to solve but I'm drawing the shape of them so I'll be ready to face them soon.
First day of Spring seems to be amazing so I'm going to use it wisely, together with Mattia (strike of luck- we're both off today!).
I am also planning to prepare a survey and make my own research in the subject on female activeness from men's point of view, so I will need to find few men to actually ask them for their cooperation.

Thank you all for reading and my promise is: more creative writing in a more polished form coming soon, with an idea to write at least one post each week.

Love you!

xxx