“I don’t want to write, I want to have written. “
The profound subtleties of that quote from a book I read recently have been going through my head.
It’s not that I want to be someone who spends his time writing. It’s not that I don’t. But to get into the position of being able to pick up a finished article, a completed short story, an actual prose in print, or published somewhere. And know that it was penned by my hands. That will be special.
I eagerly anticipate walking into a bookshop one day, and there on the shelf is my book. A project that I have poured my heart and soul into and have actually finished it.
But just to be published, an author. My thoughts and ideas being out there, in the public domain. Someone reading them and thinking about what they have read. Maybe even being influenced by it. Perhaps even being inspired by me. Encouraged.
Yes, that’s what I look forward to the most.
Encouraging others with my ramblings, ideas. Points of view, with a point, and preparing for the views to come. The hilltops that are reachable. The goals that can be met.
If it gets me any income, great, but I hope I’m not aiming for the prize of wealth.
The prizes of intellectual expression and personal development should hopefully be the driving factors behind it.
It’s not that I want to write…
It really is that I want to have written.
kendorphin 