I started this blog as a way to be an open book.

To exist in prose as Lulu Hermawan and not only as my nom-de-plume, Morael Elior. It has so far served its intended purpose, perhaps less only because I have not been writing as much as I should. But I am proud of it. As a kid I wanted to change the world and everyone in it, the way so many greats have done. The way Mandela did, the way Mother Theresa did. Now, blossoming into adulthood, I still very much want to, but changing one person at a time is still a victory in my books.

As far as writing goes, I have been churning out poems, but I have not yet in the past 2.5 years reconciled my creative process with my manuscripts. They remain untouched, there for my eyes to behold, like dragonfly in amber.

I miss it dearly. I long for my fingers to fly across the keyboard, free of inhibition like they used to, My characters, their own people with their own minds, once vibrant and lively, have dimmed in the confines of my mind, unable to express themselves for so long. They are there, watching, pacing in the shadows, waiting to come back to life like dry tinder waiting for a spark, hands outstretched, beckoning me to once again join in and frolic in the chaos of the halted throes of our eternal waltz.

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