Four months later

Four months later I am still on the same sofa in this little room under the roof, by a canal, writing my pain away. Four months later I find this screen, and the words that appear on it, as a way out from myself and my obsessions. Four months later I am still here pondering on my life, now and in the future.
Maybe being all by myself is not a solution. Or maybe taking advantage of my solitude is the way to cure it, to erase its negative influence. There probably is no creativity without at least some solitude. And probably the deeper the condition the better the creation. Great art may not come easily.
Or maybe this is just my illusion, to justify why I do what I do in such a unhurried way.
Yet Criulinha is still very much alive in me. Maybe she will tell you more stories.........Let's see.