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My name is Jhonattan P. S. and i am an Italian Author. At first, I wrote on an iron. I attended free writing courses. I slaved away as a waiter.

Over the years, I was kicked out of my home at least ten times; I saw my first heroin overdose, family members high on crack in the living room; I lived as a street artist and walked around France and Spain with a tent on my shoulders; I've been to a Brazilian favela and a brothel in Rio and Zurich. I've lived in the mountains and by the sea. In cities and in the countryside.

I've also written hundreds of advertising copy for an online sex shop. Plus hundreds of useless articles about soccer, gossip, and trivia. Dozens of economics theses for lazy but rich students, and dozens of television reports on missing persons, in which people cheered when someone cried. And they paid me for every word I wrote. In hell, they'll hire me as a copywriter.

The stories I write are stories that break my pen with anger, amazement, emotion, embarrassment, hatred, desire.

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