To write is to suffer. The Writer is willingly and blatantly sacrificial. He must put himself at the mercy of readers of all ages, races, orientations, political affiliations and moral agendas. To make himself heard, the Writer must subscribe to the paradox of serving others by stating his own positions, thoughts, dreams and opinions. At times, he must designedly step on the toes of others in order to serve them with ideas that would otherwise go unread.
The plight of the Writer is to have the ability to read people like literature, to understand them as characters in the grand tale of life, to see them not for what they are but for what they are capable of, and watch them live as if their current state is the accomplishment of potential. He must meticulously edit each thought on mind’s parchment before uttering one syllable. This action is often fragmentary, leaving his contributions to conversation appreciated, but misrepresented.
Reality is the demise of the Writer. He lives on a plane above reality, a state removed from life. Observant, yet unsubscribed to failure. The rare moments of realization to this so-called reality around him strip him of his existential reality, leaving him to question identity, God, purpose and the like. To write is to dream, to live in a dream and recognize the ideal as reality. When reality is realized and the ideal is lost in life’s shadow, the Writer is an alien, alone in the moment of identity’s rebirth.
Finally, to write is to abandon. In his home on the plane above reality, the Writer sees each work as what it can be, not what it is. He finds his own work disappointing, mediocre. Each chapter, page, paragraph, sentence, word and syllable can be (and should have been) better. The Writer is forced into humility, a trait often desired for its goodness. However, the Writer’s humility is inescapable, because he sees (and always will see) himself as the embodiment of unfulfilled potential. Yet he presses on, wishing for that perfect line of text to resonate in his ear in the same way he hears Dickinson, Keats, Shakespeare, Lee, and Bradbury.
To write is to anticipate the realization of the ideal, and firmly believe in its tangibility.
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