La littérature fantastique & the dark romanticism

Between the layers of my normality resides a obscure and fantastique world, full of dreams and tales to tell.
The tales are wild and strange, some full of colorful characters, insane laughts and different worlds, some more obsure, more somber and cold with solitary as the main character.
Like orchestral music they develop fast into my mind taking their own road and performing their unknown chores. They are made from dark and light, from sad/anxious feelings and from exhilarating comedy of my life.
I never had something to tell, now i realize i have this...