A fictional story about a fictional story.
Sunday, 12.04.2016 - 4:07 pm.

I poured my heart out yesterday to my friend Virginia in an e-mail, a sort of briefing about the things I've talked about here in the last month or so. She's wonderful, she records herself talking to me about her life and sends me the file. It's like a heartfelt letter/podcast, and it melts my heart with joy. To listen to a friend's voice; to listen to my own accent, now lost to me; to listen to someone close to my heart confiding in me. I laugh nervously when I'm around a recording device, she knows, so I just write her back.

In my writing to her, I figured I'm mostly heterosexual with no chance to put to the test that part that falls outside the "mostly". Or, hey, I could be basic and call myself sapiosexual, as I am indeed willing to love and fuck people who own intellectual gems and are cool to boot, regardless of their gender. Start lining up, ladies and gentlemen and those in-between. And that's probably the end of this subject for me.

That's all I have to say this week, I guess. The PhD is going awfully slow and may not move for the rest of the year.

On the bright side, I've spent my weekend writing my AF story, 173 pages and counting. I am so fucking happy with it. I'm scared of it not coming out to the world and I'm scared of it failing in the real world if it does come out. But for now it's MY story, free of judgements and shortcomings and could-have-beens. It's my happy place, my own little world. My imagination is already running wild with fictional fanfiction written by the fictional rabid fans of the fictional rock band of the story. It surprises me, how the mind can come up with fiction about fiction. And it's BAD fanfiction, as it has to be; so bad that it's good.

I'm going back to the story now.

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