Journal
I'm writing a book about seven years that took me from 155 kilograms and meth to where I am today. This is where I put down what comes out of that process.
Three kinds of texts.
From the book. Moments I lived through and suppressed for years. Some will make it in whole, others will be cut and stay here only.
On writing. Where I get stuck, and what happens when I have to go back to years I don't want to go back to.
On publishing. What it takes to publish a book on your own. What it costs, what I didn't know about it, and exactly where I am right now.
None of this is a guide. It's just what's happening while the book is being written.
-
An Idea That Came Twice
Eight years ago, colleagues at work told me I should write a book. We were sitting together and I was telling them what I had experienced until then — life on the street, half a year without a salary, how I taught myself to program, although I was failing school to become a chef. I was totally lost back then, occasionally taking meth. Despite that, the idea seemed good to me, even though with the life I had back then, it would have been a complete fiasco.
-
First Step
June 8th, 2020. At half past eleven, the box was sitting on the staircase. By five in the afternoon, the treadmill was in the living room.
-
First Entry
19th August 2021, 16:06. I'm sitting in the Fabia, I turn around and someone takes a photo. Belly against the steering wheel, seatbelt across it. I wasn't posing, wasn't expecting it. That's how the photos come out where you actually see a person.
