A few days ago, a man I greatly admire and whom I have the pleasure of working with, asked me a poignant question: If you could be anything, what would you be?
“A writer,” I answered him. “That’s all I want.”
Words are my lifes-blood. I devour literary works and fuel my own creativity with their inspiring words. I follow others who dream my same dream. To write. To express in beautiful finality. To leave a living legacy of written word that cannot be denied, for there it is, in perfect physical matter, resting heavily in my own two hands someday…someday.
If I could not write, I would not live. Dry as a husk. Empty and without vitality.