A Writer's Interjection

To all those passionate about writing

Thump, click, tap, taptaptaptaptaptaptap....

Yup, the ratio between advancing and back space is 3:7.

After a good hour of typing, I can no longer differentiate between the clacking of the keyboard and the palpitation of my heart. Though already stretched to their limits, my sore fingers twitch with anticipation to illustrate more of the visions flashing in my little mind palace. 

My brain is probably fried by then, pureed like a cup of strawberry smoothie. But I can't help it! It's so hard to clench the thirst of writing. 

All writers, of poems, stories, books and songs, probably share the same passion. Regardless of the ticking clock, chilling coffee, busy schedule and frowns of disapproval, we crave the exhilaration of composing, return to the lush roses blooming only for our imaginations ...

Thus, we march forward, dragging our drained fingers across the palette, painting a picture for you, for us, to see. To appreciate. To review. To laugh at. To criticize. To love.

Thus, we shall persevere, and deliver the fruit of our labour to the world. To our families. To our friends. To lovers. To strangers.

Praise the beauty of literature, and the creation of diction; and all that which cleared the path for the beauty of the pieces we behold today.

So forward we will go, fellow writers. We are the dreamers, of a beautiful world. We are the artists, of an unparalleled masterpiece. We are the creators, of happiness, melancholy, joy and serenity.

We are the messengers of humanity.

Heil literature.

Reviews

[Rene Salinas]

I find it amazing that I am the first one to review here. I seem to find the writing embracing and full of measured intentions. Not really that concerned about the materialism behind writing as really that whole question then gets possed if the words become alive only when written? That would obviously take us a winding path so we shall leave that by the side because what follows here is to me a sincere declaration of feelings towards creativity. A quasi march like quality created for the purpose of demonstrating that we are indeed moving somewhere although the writer may thinks it is forward I have severe reservations if I am moving at all. Again to my disagreement I have to posse the question at the stage of the use of the word creators as , are we really creating something or are we just the receptacle for something to come to manifestation through us? So then I don't see myself as a messenger whatsover but that does not take or add from the emotional sincerity with which this writing is permeated by.

Thankyou

[Wind Chaser]

Hi Rene,

Thank you for your incredibly deep review on this short emotional blurt of mine :) I really appreciate your dissection of the piece and will attempt to answer some of your questions ^^

It is completely acceptable to argue the role writers play in the world of literature and our movement with the skills we possess. On a whole, we can say humanity has gone pretty far with language, in that the few gurus from the past has transformed into innumerable writers eager to experiment with this form of art. Pertaining to the question of our role, we are not immune to influences outside of our control, and that part of what we bring forth in writing is definitely not of our own. However, how we wish to deliver and twist those experiences is totally another story. By writing, we can carry forth what humanity has experienced and record it for the future and the rest of the world to see. If we are the communicators, why can we not be called the messengers?

Thanks again for that thorough review!