Where the wind blows cold

I trampled through the day without the notion that everything was turning grey. The point I am making is everyone and everything is on edge, from the twister that killed over 90 people to the reactions of plain bitterness I get from asking around for some help. Strange how people react without looking in your face to see you talking. But that is just the underlining of a more important thought, where will I be 5 or 10 years from now. I do not want to be that bitter person, I want to have my trilogy completed and working on the 4th or 5th novel by that point. You see, the pain and bitterness I get from people around the clock helps me create great scenarios and story telling perspective. Without that pain I get from stress or fowl edicate most of the story I write will be bland and plane. But that is not the only source of inspiration, as we know it comes in the form of smallest things.  I do not have to think of a demise or creation to get m blood flowing, listening to classical music or sound tracks of my favorite movies do the same, I guess the point of all of this is simple, I crawled out from the blackest parts of my history with scars to prove my bloody battle was not for vain, and the victims scrawled upon the walls of the damned led me to find no inner peace, in turn I can write better stories and really plug my mind into the characters and plot like non other I have written before. So I welcome you to the madness that will be the next year of my life, everyday I will post something new about the book and me, if you are lucky I will tell you a secret about me, and maybe, just maybe, we can get through this in one piece.