I've been writing for some twenty years now and never thought of sharing them until now.
My way of writing coming from deep, and many times I'am ashamed of them.
Mostly due to the pain, and hurt that I carry through the years, and writing is my way of healing. That is why it's kind of personal.
I'am 49 and raising three kids. So, I can say that I have some hard earned life experiences in my writing materials.
Uncle Ákos was almost eighty when he lost his thirty years old son, who commited suicide. The young man was unable to work his way through the biggest challenge of his life. Once he accidentally ended up in a gay bar instead of a rock club with one of his body, where they were supposed to see a live rock concert, so he realized of his undoubted attraction to his own sex. At that time, he was newly married and only weeks away of the birth of his son. He got married due to the expectation of his parents, not to mention the social pressures which he proved to be too weak to stand strong against. The son of Uncle Ákos'd been struggling for years beforehand, only to come to term of the very reason of his whole existence at that gay bar. In the blurry state of living his life, he never felt that he'd had anybody to discuss his real self with. His father, Uncle Ákos, after the tragedy, felt his overwhelming responsibility over of losing his only son.