Description
When I took a pen and paper, I never thought I would become a writer. But there was always something burning me inside, as there was always something hidden that I needed to put into words.
I knew I was always silent and withdrawn about many topics, but I could never deny that there was something hidden in my inner perspective that layered a temptation to try and give it a voice as a need to surface. It was this that drew me towards literature. It was that hidden corner, that if it did not exist, I would not even know I existed.
I had come across it before. To some writers, an expression that was so alienate to many people and random; to me it struck me as something known that had existed in me for a long time, that “invisible summer”.
It referred to me to an unremarkable way of experiencing and understanding the course of many interactions that people kept their morale high in the most difficult moments, from the wars of World War 2 to all the dissatisfactions of abandonment, loss, and change.
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