Why would you listen to a writer? A lot of times we’re not public speakers, we don’t always give addresses, and we certainly don’t always like to talk to others. Well, some of us don’t. But listening to a writer is about more than hearing what we have to say. It’s about taking the trip that gets you away from the life that you want to escape for a little while. It’s about taking in a different perspective and finding a part of life that you you might not have given much thought to until that moment. In essence listening to a writer is wise for the simple fact that we create worlds and chronicle the world we live in for those that might otherwise miss out.
Our words are what last.
When civilization falls, when people are nothing but dust in an errant breeze, the words we’ve written and etched across time still seem to persist in one manner or another. The medium upon which our words is printed is not permanent obviously, but so long as a single page exists our legacy, and that of the world we came from, will still remain. Writers don’t always have a choice, the call to chronicle the world around us and the worlds within our minds is an insistent thing that demands attention.
Imagination knocks at the door of our consciousness continually and at times begs to be unleashed. Writers are those that are tortured quite often by the ideas that exist on that border between waking and sleep, and are very often compelled to fling the door wide open in order to let the storm of inspiration through. In that deluge we find what is necessary to bring our type of crazy, our shining light amidst the maelstrom, to the people that need to hear it.
Writer’s are the voice of humanity.
Whatever is spoken to the masses, whatever words are given by the mouthpiece that leads men and women, they are given that inspiration by writers. They are coached, they are guided, and they are offered the words by those that know what people want to hear, by those that feel the pulse of humanity running through them in a way that few others do. Writers feel that continual beat, that hammerblow of civilization’s continual and unending thrum, and we act upon it.
Listening to a writer is like listening to the song of our world, and it never ends.