Fiction is truth

We live in times when we need fiction more than ever. Fiction dares to tell the truth about the world we live in. Unconventional fiction ventures even further. We need fiction as we need food and sex. Without fiction, we poison ourselves on the lies of media.


Destined Union/An Unconventional Love Story

Destined Union by Tina Brescanu

Coming out later in life is not uncommon. Many come out in their 40’s, 50’s, 60’s and even later. People in their 40’s and older were raised in an era when heterosexuality and monogamy were the only openly accepted options for living life. People who come out later in life realise that they have always been what they thought they weren’t but now finally have had the honour of getting to know. Some are shocked at their discovery but most are comfortable becoming who they really are, who they have always been, but now have a new understanding for. Destined Union is a story of coming out later in life and also a becoming who you really are story. #Polyamory #Bisexual #Pansexual #LimitlessLove #ComingOut

#Polyamory #Bisexual #Pansexual #LimitlessLove #ComingOut

Have you never felt suicidal, what’s wrong with you?!

The first time I was suicidal, I was nine years old. Early puberty spiralled out of control. I was all over the place, but I didn’t want to be in any place, certainly not in life. I started to smoke and it helped to slow down my death wish. Smoking is a slower expression of suicidal thoughts, hidden really as it creates a smoke screen to hide behind, and I hid there for twenty-three years, but I still went through two more suicidal events.

The second time was in my late teens, having survived school but having no real idea of who I was or what I wanted. I drank myself drunk and cut myself while writing out my sorrow. Words spilt out on paper and my good-byes’ became stories, stories that made me see myself clearer, clear enough to know I wasn’t finished yet, I had stuff left to do. I continued smoking but I changed my life totally in every other way and I headed down yet another path, a path that led me to Ireland and that’s where the last episode occurred just before meeting my life partner and dad of my children who came to me in a story the second time I tried to kill myself and told me to hang on.

The last time I was partied out, empty and lost. My plan was to go to the end of the world to meet my end of this world, but one last party came up and that’s where I met my husband who was an illegal immigrant. Living on the edge meant always taking risks but this wasn’t as much about saving his life, allowing him to stay in Ireland, it was about saving my own life, allowing me to stay alive and for our children that I had written about in previous suicide notes that became a prophecy which came true. My children saved my life as did I for believing in stories.

I think to live fully you have to meet death. I felt like a coward for not daring to kill myself, but I have since learnt that I was brave. I’ve lost one friend through suicide but I have the deepest empathy for her and any suicidal person who goes the whole way, I know how close I came, and I don’t believe in any religious damnation of suicide, of it being a cowards way out, life is a miracle but only if it’s a choice and ultimately we all belong to ourselves, we all make up our own reasons for living and when we lose them I believe any person who dies by suicide goes straight back to cosmic love for a respite and then it’s up to them to come back again or not.

Ladder of Life

To own your house and have a job for life sounds good to a lot of people, but I have always questioned this life set up, I’ve always prefer not owning anything other than my own body, myself, the rest can come and go, move freely, not stagnate and grow mould.

Of course, my theories are based only on what feels right and what doesn’t.

I never subscribed to one job for life either; people have always been shocked at my disregard for a permanent job position, preferring the opportunity to remain until further notice employment basis.

Owning a house has never been on my life plan either, renting gives much more freedom and options, and now when people live longer, and immigration is quite common, it makes more sense too.

Renting and changing jobs throughout life keep everything fresh, and a country with this life set up does better than countries who insist on holding tight to what is not a safety net, it’s a ball and chains.

Just like money in the bank is useless when not used, so too are jobs and houses when they stagnate, when they don’t get new blood. We all know that a change of scenery recharges the batteries, but change is also freedom.

My mormor (mother’s mother)

My mormor (Swedish for mother’s mother) came to Sweden in a rucksack.

Her grandparents skied across the frozen river between Sweden and Finland in the middle of the night having sold everything to get to Sweden at the most dangerous of times, the beginning of peace after WW2. My mormor is Finnish Karelian.

My mormor got pneumonia and were taken to Haparanda hospital while her parents started to work in the forest.

Later, they were moved to the south of Sweden, to Sikfors, a small place in Bergslagen in central Sweden and got a loan to set up home and start their lives as Swedes properly.

My mormor’s name is Lumia which means snow or light.

When Lumia started school at age 7 she didn’t have a word of Swedish and she struggled in first and second year, but not only because of the language, she needed glasses but no one figured it out until she was 13. My mormor attended a small school in Sikfors. She was bullied for being fat, her mother overfed her because she had suffered starvation and didn’t want my mormor to go through the same hardship. My mormor was also bullied for not speaking Swedish properly.

I love that when she came back to her school reunion 40 years later, she was the only one who was slim and still working. Because she was overweight she wasn’t allowed to take part in PE, mad isn’t it?

They thought she could injure herself and she was also put on a diet in school so when the other children had pea soup and pancakes my mormor got carrots and eggs, every day!

Mormor’s best friend, Rosmari, was from Austria and the most mischievous thing they ever did was to climb other people’s apple trees and sit dangling from a branch each while eating apples until they could eat no more.

They went fishing in Svartälven, or the Black River, and mormor’s cat always got the first fish. She carried it home between her teeth to show off before chowing down.

My mormor was a very kind, gentle and shy person. Some people thought she was stupid because she was different. When she listened to Elvis Presley, Little Richards and Chubby Checker on her Grammophon, an ancient machine for playing music, she boogied all the badness away, but if she played too loud her dad used to turn off the electricity.

Lumia’s favourite food was pancakes and meatballs but today she eats neither because they are not healthy for a woman who has survived a heart attack.

My mormor’s favourite season was and still is summer. Rosmari and Lumia used to swim all day and every day in the lake Sången, the Song. They floated and dived even if it rained, but never when it thundered.

My mormor used to help her parents to pick berries and mushroom in the forest which they both ate themselves and also sold. She loved helping to stretch their low-income this way but she sometimes got fed up translating for her parents.

They never went on holiday, but my mormor got to go to Finland a few times to meet all the relatives, mostly in Joensuu and Lieksa which is in the east of Finland, bordering the Karelia they once came from which now belongs to Russia.

My mormor read all Enid Blyton books and this was also her collection. She is still an avid reader but now she reads mysteries.