As an untalented freak like me, one must meet noncountable inspiration-blocks in this life.For me the first one occred to me last year. Words losted meaning, songs had no melody, sky was grey and vodka, actually still worked pretty well but without magic. Literally, I was not able to feel anything excpet miseries in my alcoholic life. My shrink would say I was in great drepression if I had a shrink. Then I pushed the pause button of my creating. "Get a job will help me to get back to the normal human world" I said to myself when I walked in an office of a fashion magazine for a job interview. It went supriseingly well. Six month later I'm still a lonly man without wonder, but at least I reallize I'm not the only miserable soul in this dull exsistence. Everyone get something to cry for at the middle of night. Then it kicks in from nowhere, my new project, the mini comic story "Between Rivers" which might not be elegant or delicate, not even well executed, but still it's my poetry to this world.