Writers' Forum

Bo starts out as a wild, motorbike riding young woman – 19 or 20, with dreams of doing great things, not letting anyone holding her back. Shortly after the opening of the film, that introduces this young Bo, we see her vacuuming and cleaning rich people’s homes- not the dream she imagined. Her character and her dreams are pushed down further by her sleazy boyfriend, married of course, who asks her to get money for his sick nephew when it is really for him to pay his gambling debts. Through the course of the story, Bo’s character gets pushed into being a kidnapper and criminal, for which she eventually spends time in prison. The movie ends with her leaving prison and walking down the road, feeling free, and as if anything is possible again- just like her youthful dream. It’s a story full of action, sweetness, deception, justice and hope. Bo’s young bravura and idealism is so human and accessible for younger audiences- she is strong, beautiful and capable, with her life and dreams ahead of her. The reality of life knocking the wind out of her sails, is very relatable for older audiences who have already moved to a different stage in life and can empathize with bittersweet feelings of their own compromises. Even though Bo gets mixed up- stealing money, kidnapping and running from the police, she is not a real criminal- it is always done for a good cause, and she holds strong to her ideal to not give up on her dreams. With her best friend and protégé, Luiza, they show their loyalty and good will, befriending their kidnap victim and taking care of him- giving him a wonderful adventure in his entitled, too-easy life. Facing the consequences of her choices- doing time in prison- and coming out unscathed, even stronger than before, and back to her young idealistic outlook gives a message of hope for the human spirit. The sequel will follow Bo into the next stage of her life where she finds meaning in following dreams, helping children.

After being prompted by @Zornica Genova and @Miloslava to share more of my poems, I promised that I will post it on here, so here goes nothing. The first one is the one I recited at last night's graduation event Dreams I dreamt of your name on a different face, Still i knew it was you haunting my dreams night and day. I dreamt of rebirth and of you in a single night, Could it be that we will rise like phoenix from the ashes one last time? I dreamt of my dreams coming true, All in all I dreamt of you! And now for some of the graduation poems Tell me why Tell me why we have so little time Tell me why the world is of such design Tell me why there is pain Tell me why are we all chasing fame Tell me why we are here Tell me why my dear Success and failure Success and failure are both part of one's way, can last forever or just for a day As they both take turns, success grants us wings, but sometimes failure burns Nevertheless, life goes on pulling our strings. Rooftop A rooftop is a place to think, to gather your thoughts in the blowing wind, to let your mind flow into the starry sky, to watch the birds sing and fly to see the sun and the moon rise, to ask God for earthly advice. @Zornica Genova and @Miloslava I would love to hear your thoughts :) and everyone else's of course :)

The Miners of Chernobyl Although they say that coal is but a diamond in the making, I know it's just a myth. And still, hail all those darkest souls who do the break through because it's easy shining if you're bright but purest are those who shine without ever knowing light. This Piece I wanted this piece to awaken your spirits, to be a fucking revelation. To leave you silent like a forest in the winter - heavy with purity and wisdom. I wanted you to think: “Damn, I should really start recycling!” Or something as important. But the truth is that this piece was born amid cooking and potty training, born right on the dirty floor somewhere next to the cat vomit that our handsome vet treated and that cost us half our holiday in Greece. This piece was born in haste like village women used to birth in the fields, impatient to go back to their spades. … And now I'm holding my piece in my arms - imperfect, small and wrinkled. But still, a piece of me. I am looking at it straight into its eyes that don't see me and wonder: “Will you grow up to change the world? You know what? Screw expectations! I'll love you as you are!” And I don't care if you love it. It is mine and it is perfect. But, please, recycle.