On Being a Writer
One must be prepared to live a lifetime of distortion. One must become accustomed to seeing through introspective lenses.
You see colors as words ready to be written. Yellow is a poem about the happiness you feel when he’s looking directly in your eyes. Blue is how it feels to be alone, staring at the wall currently portraying the world not readily available. Green says serenity and peace. Red says you care, perhaps too much for your own good. You see people as treasures. Each one represents more value to your life than any material possession. He is the golden doubloon that is precious to only you, you who values the rarity of an antique so finely in tune with everything you believe in. He is the cloud in the sky that is amorphous. He transforms for only you, you who understands the importance of change.
On Loving a Writer
One must be prepared to compromise what they’ve learned. One must become accustomed to infinite internal climate.
You must become a story the writer always wants to tell. You must be the start, the middle, yet never the end (because even if you become the end, your story will never meet the same fate). You must become a song that the writer wants to hear over and over. You must become a word that never tires coming from the writer’s lips. You'll learn to tackle the madness with the utmost level of sanity. You'll become a sanctuary for when the nights get too long and too lonely. You must be the stop sign. You must become the halt to the writers’ block. You must become a book the writer never wants to finish.