There is blood —literally of metaphorically — wherever there is war, bombs, conflicts like this.

The photo was a choice I made within seconds, because I just wanted smoke in the air! So simple! Maybe a stupid moment, but I don’t take too much time to choose the images, because I’m more interested in writing what I feel.

I know myself well enough to be aware of my intention in things like that(in many more things, too).

What you describe is not me, not Anthi. I declare what I felt while writing this — the pain for every victim of conflicts like this — and you insist you know better what I wanted to say. I was crying while writing this, and I observe myself so carefully, that I knew I was crying for human beings that are victims of wars generally. I wasn’t angry and sad about specific nationalities or …whatever, but about the fact that humans destroy humans.

And you still insist you know what I felt.

You are focusing on a title stupidly chosen, and you forget the rest of the picture you have of Anthi.

Writing, Life Coaching, Criminology, and more. But I simply do these, I am not these. I just am.

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