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Writing, that’s all I need

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It’s said, elsewhere that it doesn’t matter where you sat, and what time it is, essential  is to be ready for when inspiration strikes, you don’t miss out the train  of thought, at the  station where you are, ceise the thing and get the hell out of  it, and put  it down to  paper

on creating-the-physical-and-mental-space-to-write

Seven is enough of, for  a family members  living in a house  of 2 bedrooms, that you are always in quest of a quiet place where to read, write, and as the usual routine had absorbed your time at work, for  when you get  home, fed off  of computers you  want only to  just relax. As Mr.W. Somerset  Maugham’ quote said, to read you only need is  a secluded cocoon like, or just to shut down your ears, and cut yourself from the  world outside noises, and continue reading, like when you commute and usually do. Save that in your house, besides your  domestic duties, cook, do laundry, and errands, at the end of the  day, the only place of your  realm where  to gather yourself, thoughts, and pains parts is the little corner of the  shared sofa. It happens that I  have that little Eden,  with a imprenable  view of a safety-escape rusted iron stairway that stop right on a the asphalt of street.

It’s a nook where I have written   about all of my blogs and  posts, on my  iPad, and sometimes, my laptop, late in the  night when  the tribe  had joined the  pillows, I write for an hour  or  less –I told you  that already, It’s  mansion of  2 bedrooms, I did? Oh! Yeah, Sorry for  repeating  myself, so that’s it. At wee hours You  can see through the  curtain time flies, and season playing at seek and hide, for  your  eyes only, and a visit of whimsical bird stopping by the windowsill to read you blog? Peering atop your shoulder perhaps, than rises an eyebrow and flaps  his wings away. Good  morning  sunshine, it’s  Sunday morning, I got to sleep

Thanks for sharing reading

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