A poet and short story writer in everything she does, Rebecca Wayth is a 22 year old girl from Bratislava, Slovakia.
“Writing about positive stuff is kind of boring,” she says. “I love when shit gets dark and weird.” Stability,
normalcy, predictability are all things she can gladly go without. She couldn’t imagine life without chaos and excitement—
and the same goes for her writing.
Self-discovery is at its core. Self-discovery not only through channeling her emotions, but by exploring the deepest corners of her mind, by getting to know herself through the words she puts to her pages. Writing is a way for her to empty her brain and to immortalize her thoughts like a sculptor forming a block of marble. There’s no way for Rebecca not to write. It’s such an integral part of her, she might as well try to stop breathing.
If eyes are windows to the soul, then books are gateways. Behind the cover of growing pains lie dozens of them. Across their threshold, waiting: A new star appears in the sky and bewitches a blind girl; time stretches out endlessly in the minutes before a proposal; a psychic predicts...
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