It is not a matter of much significance to an accomplished writer to think about who he is as a writer. It is, no doubt, a thought that knocks the gates of every young writer’s mind that who is he?What is he? Does he even matter or not? The answers to these absurd sounding questions is not as easy to understand as it seems and even if by chance you learn their meaning, you cannot comprehending their stature and enormity.
Although, every writer is a person who writes but not every person who writes is a writer. Writing is the name of creativity, expression, creation and discovery of your inner self;any one can hold a pen and write a few absurd and nonsense lines but can he, through those few lines, express himself? His thoughts? His feelings?
A painter’s instrument of expression is a brush, and a writer’s lethality is expressed through his pen but pen or brush are themselves nothing more than lifeless things, holding no memory as to what they really are. Instrument does not matter, the hand which holds it does.
Why? The answer to everything. Why do you write? What compels you? What motivates you? Surely, you are not forced? Then why?
A true writer, a great writer, writes with indifference. He writes in misery, in pain, in joy, in love, in hate, in every possible feeling and never cares for who the reader is or if there is any reader. But indifference is not isolation from this world, its people or its habitants. It is but to be satisfied with yourself, to have no doubt in the fact that you are, in truth, a writer.
Writing merely observes as you write word after word, connecting thousand threads, thousand stories and characters. It is indifferent to its maker, to its reader. It cares not for this world or its people, for day or night, for beginning or end. It exists to observe, to feel nothing but itself as the scribe melds his heart with its own and at last, creates a masterpiece.
Your definition of you depends on you and never deny who you are. Become the Writing and the writer, the creator and the created, the inventor and the invented. Become…a void that cares not for what is in it yet revels in its existence, its beauty, its feeling.
I would not, my Reader, bore you with dictating how deceptive fame and money is but as a writer to a writer: do not let something material decide what and how you write.
What are your thoughts? Who are you as a writer? Do you agree that a writer should write for writing’s sake?
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The Weaver (@theweavrs) March 18, 2016
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