There are times when I feel like letting my guard down, sitting here pouring my heart out in as many words as I can write on this Questa è Enida blog, telling about everything that I have gone through, everything that has broken me to pieces, slices, chunks, granules and eventually to dust.
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But as I was finishing the previous sentence, I was struck hard by my own inability to answer my own question: Why? Words might not come easy, and juicy stories might sell. But mine are not cheap. I only have one life here.
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The wrongs…
Do I write about them or do I just right them?
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Questa è Enida 
Write what the heart wants to sing, scream and say.