Pure Imagination

They say that the best writing comes from total honesty. You’re meant to be telling the truth. I have several problems with this. If I were to share all and hold nothing back, then no one would look at me the same way. There are so many standards to live up to. So many sides of myself that i have shown so many different people that anything I did now would be unjust. Would it be fair to everyone to reveal that you aren’t the person that they thought you were? That you were a fake, a fraud. That the real you was a shadow thriving on false relationships. It’s best to keep them in the dark. Surely it’s enough that no one has all of you, that every one has a little piece of you stored. A perfect piece unsullied by any other characteristic that you might have. Is it not best that one person thinks of you as the fool and another the genius? To me it seems a little romantic that after you’re gone the only way that any of them can ever truly know you is if they all came together and combined their memories.
Amena thinksI’ve got it in me to write. I’d like to say i believed her, to grow a beard and a dirty tash. To stare into the distance in deep thought and after a few minutes pen down some genius that would summarize the human condition. Something that would make the hardest of hearts laugh and cry in equal turn. Something that’s not quite funny and not quite sad. Something that's as nostalgic as it is forward looking. Something that exposed your life in a page. The power that these genius wordsmiths yield is unparalleled. We dance along to their tunes in perfect harmony. In my opinion it’s a little narcissistic. For if the reasons that Narcissus fell in love with himself are universal, rational and reasonable, then every writer must fall in love with his readers because they smiled when he did and wept when he did. The readers must mirror the writer. When they fail to do so there’s a complete disconnect. I guess that’s why writers must be honest, because readers are not so stupid as to fall for drivel that’s completely imagined. Having said all this one must question if there is such a thing as fiction.

Happy Days,


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