From works of Shakespeare; to the amazing style of writing, only Chinua Achebe knew how to use; to the 21th century style of storytelling Kendall F Person uses to weave beautiful intricate articles and essays.
All the beautiful works done by your favorite writers are somehow executed with some sort of ease I still feel I might never have. They wonderfully build settings, masterfully sculpt characters from the unknown and all of a sudden; their stories make use of the reader’s imagination, making the reader feel his dreams and thoughts by reading mere words with descriptions that are ever top notch. How is this even possible?
Ever read a short paragraph from a good article, done with words that seem to melt together to form a hint of perfection; An almost astonishing symphony that leaves you wanting more; One word after another slowly unveiling the pale grandeur of the ever twisted, yet sane human mind. This same words could be turned into moving pictures, but this words seem to be perfect the way they are; words with no intentions to describing a tangible universe. It’s
just mere words stringed together in perfect harmony. Something I refer to as “cool” then creeps into the mind; “I was born to do this”. But at the end of the day I discover that; life would always be demanding, regardless the wishes and big dreams we keep gathering. Whether you are a widely successful writer, an aspiring author or just a man with a dream. At every junction leading to the post of “happiness”, it’s easy to figure out we are just ordinary inhabitants in a society that requires us to keep building for the “them” more than the “us”; A society that always wants ‘positive’ results even when it clearly runs in the hamster anti clockwise wheel of productivity; a society where one job can never be enough; and the individuals within its confines, pick as many job as possible, so they all could flex the muscles of that overrated fiscal power, which ultimately makes our dreams and passion slip down that priority list.
Wannune ‘Benue State ‘Feb 2015
I ask myself; Shouldn’t I accept that process of growth, that time span; where I evolve into complete beauty; that magnificent masterpiece; celebrated by not just myself but by the world around me. That point where we see all instant gratification as useless ‘cos there is always work to do. I don’t think I can possibly come to appreciate what matters to me, if I don’t spend much time with what really matters to me. I am just hoping you share in my “silly sentiments”.
It’s a fact; there would always be the hard and ugly times, the tragedies and unlucky days, the pain and bitter melancholy that defines our different moments. But the wise ones use this period to create ‘alone time’, even in the most crowded of places. Building defined articles and essays with every piece gotten; unknowingly answering questions of a deprived few; this writers do have dreams of their own, they look for a future that would be completely defining; so they face their business squarely.
In those little alone time; we bleed and cry and demolish and rebuild with only what’s available. As a writer, I figured life is an experience, more like a journey; so I take my time to be clear about my dreams, not getting carried away by the fact that my present day existence is an inspiration to people I have not met and might never meet.