One year ago I was in a completely different place (and I am not talking about Italy or Los Angeles). If you had told me my name and my writing would be part of a brilliant anthology like How Dirty Girls Get Clean I would have laughed at you, loud and bitter.
Until very recently I have thrown away my life and my art (and I have been doing it for the past 12 years) but I guess I made a step towards something big and definitely worth the challenge, both for me as a woman and for my career.
Just a few months ago I was a ghost; someone I could barely look at in the mirror.
Today I'm a writer with a beating heart (gloomy, and that needs some maintenance) but that never failed me, even if it had all the rights to (together with some other organs of mine).
I don't know why, but I'm still here and kicking asses. It must mean something, and as I said in my previous post Melancholia: THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES IN LIFE. AND SOMETIMES IT'S WORTH THE PAIN AND THE STRUGGLE.
Thank you all for supporting me! It means the world!
P.s. if you want me bare naked in your bedroom, with other 46 sublime Dirty Girls, buy this book on Amazon!