The idea of being a writer

I am in love with the idea of being a writer, the image.

The idea of sitting on a table overlooking a giant window. The view outside the window keeps changing, but the table, and the chair, and the image of a writer, they stay.

As I said, I am in love with the idea of being a writer.

I am not entirely sure, who the first one was, but over time, there has been this one sentence, this statement, going around in my world. It says this:

Nobody pays for the idea. Ideas are abundant; actions, few.

Okay, I said it.

I think, a lot. I think, and plan, and imagine.

I imagine the future, a perfect future, in which everything would line up perfectly, enabling me to write. What I forget, however, is that there is no perfect time. Not now, not ever.

The idea, for this post, the title mostly, registered with me, once I had entered my abode for the next six days, and had looked at the table in the corner. There was a wide door to the balcony, and outside you could see the greens from the balcony. This was essentially a nice property. The image was perfect: the table, the chair, the laptop, and above all the changing views outside the balcony. It rained twice, yes, twice, and each time, I came to know about it, after hearing it…

There is this post in my drafts, I haven’t written a word there, all that I have, is the title ‘Fear’. I’ll let you in a little secret. I was so afraid of the content, that I dared not write a word. I will let you in on another secret; I was afraid, that I really was just playing a writer.

I was scared, because this wasn’t the irrational, ‘You write like shit’ voice. It was the cold, rational voice which said, ‘Look, this really isn’t working out. You aren’t writing anything. Are you sure, you aren’t just afraid of accepting your mistake, accepting that it has always been a charade?’

I was afraid of that!

But then, something changed. I am not afraid any more. And I am not afraid any more, because I know the above to be false.

I had no idea, this is what the post was going to be about.

Seriously.

But then, I never do!