Dear book lovers, dreamers, and enthusiasts of storytelling,

We are thrilled to invite you on an incredible journey filled with imagination and emotions. We warmly welcome you to the crowdfunding campaign for the project "Stories not entirely made up" – a unique collection of tales and poems by Nataniell de Flo. Together, we embark on this shared adventure that merges the power of narratives with the charm of the written word.

About the Book: 

Stories not entirely made up" is more than a mere collection of texts; it is a meticulously woven tapestry of legendary experiences, vibrant imaginings, and whispered tales. Nataniell de Flo, a native storyteller, has poured his heart and soul into this collection. Drawing inspiration from his personal journey and captivating stories that have crossed his path, these pages weave narratives that traverse realms of love, destiny, and fate. With each page's transformation, you'll find yourself transported to both familiar and alternative worlds, where emotions come alive and dreams take flight.

Why Crowdfunding Matters:

The stories within "Stories not entirely made up" are ready to see the light of day, and we need your support to make that happen. Crowdfunding is the cornerstone of community-driven creativity and bridges the gap between imagination and tangibility. By supporting us, you're not only aiding in the publication of a book – you're breathing life into stories waiting to be heard. Your support helps cover crucial costs like editing, design, printing, and distribution, ensuring that "Stories Not Entirely Fictional" find their way onto bookshelves, coffee tables, and e-readers worldwide.

What to Expect:

As part of our campaign, we've prepared a variety of enticing rewards for our backers. From exclusive book editions, signed copies, and limited artistic prints himself, these rewards express our gratitude for your involvement in this exciting journey..

Join Us in this Literary Adventure:

Together, let's bring "Stories not entirely made up" to life and share tales of love, destiny, and freedom with readers around the world. Your contribution, regardless of its size, has the potential to create a ripple effect that resonates among people across the globe. Spread the word, share our campaign, and consider supporting us to ensure these stories find their way to the hearts of those seeking comfort, inspiration, and a touch of wonder.

Thank you for being an integral part of our story. We're eagerly anticipating the chapters we'll craft together. Thank you very much for your support [Team "Stories not entirely made up"]

Important Update:

We have a surprise for you – we're expanding the crowdfunding functionalities of our "Stories not entirely made up" campaign. If you enjoy writing and supporting us, send us your stories in English. Let's create together a chapter of "Stories Not Entirely Fictional."

We present a fragment of a story from the book

"Stories not entirely made up"

"365 days of heaven - eternity of hell..."
(The tale of a dying heart).

Blackness of mountains and the mist of the night envelops a wooden hut. Inside sits an old man, quietly warming his hands by the fire. A few people sit around him, gazing at him. From the silence emerges a calm, weary voice... Long, long ago, when I was your age, I thought I could conquer the whole world. I was strong, arrogant, and invincible. I wanted to have everything I couldn't have. Thanks to determination and the constant desire to obtain something one wants, also known as perseverance, I obtained what I desired. However, in this rat race, things started to feel strange. Despite having everything, something was missing. No, I'm not talking about sex, which without magic is just a mere fulfillment of our instincts. There was sex, but there was never that strange element that would make everything look different. That element that makes you fall asleep and wake up with the same thought. That strange longing that compels you to expect more. Always more...

Each of you desires this, even if you don't know it yet! That's the truth, and it's more important than anything you possess or will possess. Remember these words, because the sooner you realize this, the greater your chance of prolonging that moment, which poets call Eudaimonia, and we call happiness. Happiness is what I was truly unconsciously seeking. I never experienced it in the arms of beautiful yet cold women. Women who only desired my body, my money, but never my soul. Yes, they impressed me, entertained me, and brought pleasure, but they never brought happiness.

Now I should say that everything began like a fairy tale... unfortunately, it never began and never ended. I simply stumbled upon her. Sorry, I should say I bumped into her while running with my morning coffee to a meeting with some executive who needed my help. I nearly shouted at her because I had spilled my macchiato. Some airhead accidentally bumped it out of my hand. As for my first impression, I certainly wouldn't win a Pulitzer Prize for beautiful and wise words. So, I had to make my first impression on her during the second impression. But we'll get to that.

You're wondering what she was like...? Was she beautiful? Back then, I didn't think so – oh, definitely not beautiful at that time, but over time... Over time, everything changed. I remember she gave me her phone number after my outbursts about my shirt and suit needing cleaning while I had a meeting. She politely said: "I'm sorry, but I don't have any money with me. Take my number, I'll reimburse you for the dry cleaning costs." What a fluke – what did she think she was doing? I could afford the dry cleaning! Why did I unleash my frustration on her? Hmm... I guess it just happened. Along with the coffee that was spilled on me, all my bitterness poured out – a bitterness I wasn't even aware of. I surprised myself with my behavior, as I had never been like that. And her? She kept pressing her phone number on me, as if she wanted to reimburse me for the dry cleaning. I thought it was trivial and walked away, taking her number with me without even looking back. I didn't even glance over my shoulder. The meeting with the executive was hopeless – not only was I late, but I couldn't focus for some reason. A sense of meaninglessness engulfed me.

Three days later, I don't know how, but a kind of melancholy overcame me. Although we men never use such words to describe ourselves. We just have bad days or we're overworked. But on that bad day, sitting on my bed and sipping another glass of wine, I noticed a piece of paper with a phone number on my desk. I didn't feel like engaging in meaningless conversations with "dolls," as I called those women who had nothing more than a beautiful body to offer. Julia and a phone number – I stared at that piece of paper and thought to myself (Julia, the one who spilled coffee). Why did I call her? I don't know. I don't even know when I dialed the number. Despite it being 10 PM (I wasn't aware it was so late), a gentle and soft voice answered on the other end (The crazy one who spilled coffee has a pleasant voice).

"Good evening," I said. "Good evening, it's Julia. How can I help you?" "Is this Julia, the one who spilled coffee? (I don't know why, but I repeated my thoughts)." "Yes, that's me. Hello, sir..." after a brief pause, she added, "Are you calling for the reimbursement?" "Once again, I apologize, and of course, I will cover all the dry cleaning costs." "Yes, yes... as for the costs, you owe me a coffee. (I thought, you fool, why are you talking like this?)" "I'd like to cover the dry cleaning costs – how much do I owe you?" "You don't understand, miss. I'm not calling about money. You owe me a coffee." "Coffee?" "Yes, coffee... and you have to drink it with me since we know each other well enough for you to spill it on me." "And you won't shout?" "Shout? Did I shout?" "Yes, you shouted... quite like..." But if this is your compensation, please give me a time and place for that coffee." "Alright, I'll send you the time and place tomorrow. I wish you a good night." "I also wish you the same... Good night."

Why didn't I go straight to the point? Why did I behave like this? I think I wanted to see her again. Just like that. Maybe I wanted to experience that strange feeling once more – the feeling of my heart pounding. Heart, did I say heart? On that day, my heart started to beat in a completely different way than usual. It was beating so unusually that I could feel it in my throat. It seemed to get stuck in my throat and wanted to break free.

Do you understand this feeling? Don't answer so quickly. This feeling is something we've all experienced at least once, but it's very easy to mistake for something else. Yes, yes, I know that – you'll say. But did you really feel it?

I'll answer you right away – if you've never felt it, then you've never felt it. Don't compare it to love, attraction, or anything else. It's completely different. I don't know how your life will turn out, but there will come a moment when your heart will race so much that you'll feel it's about to jump out of your mouth and shout: "I love you." But you won't say that – don't worry. At least not out loud.

So, as I was saying, she made me wait a whole day... and another one. Then, just before the third day ended, I received an SMS with the time and address. To be continued..."

Best regards, Nathanell de Flo Team