I legally become an independent book publisher as a way to secure income in case I become disabled. I was going for author or writer but the closest to it was book publisher. I didn’t registered a name for my company and I still didn’t examine the full potentiality of it. Now I have a little bit of peace of mind and a working PayPal account.
I wish I could just rest for a while. I thought about writing some short stories to publish here but I’m mostly thinking about death bed wishes, or how if I survive, a lot in me will have to die. I’m also worried but grateful, some of it got better and a lot could go worse.
I’m convinced that the good times are gone, that brief period of overoptimistic illusion. I was in love with my own potentiality of a future and most of it based on my own naivety. I’m still in love with my own imagination and making some room in my head to eventually work on the novel. The priority is health and find a source of income. I’ll never be able to properly focus on it in this financial instability.