This Book of Lies

Over the course of many years on Wattpad, I've written short texts and poems, mostly unfinished, which I dared not to review after publishing, for they act as an emotional diary of dispersed thoughts and images imprinted by the many situations of life.

Why call them "Lies", though? I guess being a skeptic at heart, this is how I see the many attempts that literature brings to explain existencial questions such as life and death, beauty and vice, passion and contemplation... but I take a certain pleasure in being fooled by these lies: there lies the origin of the dreams I childishly believe in order to stay earnest to my essence.

I hope you'll notice that pleasure slipping through this gloomy, visceral stream of thoughts.