Preface

Imagine that the work of a writer were to be compared to the human body; it all starts with the face (or in this case, the Preface), a sort of introduction to what’s about to follow.

That is not uncommon for many authors’ work; most of the time, they tend to announce their writing to their readers via a small teaser. Much like any human being would walk straight up and introduce himself, this is mainly the purpose of every Preface: to strike up a meeting between two parties and hope to get one of them interested in the other.

That would be true for most works – but this is not one of them.

Although the title suggests otherwise, this is NOT a Preface or any other type of introduction to an eminent body of work.
What you, kind reader, are reading is but a series of thoughts chained together in an attempt to form a well-built, possibly even structured piece of writing that may or may not speak to you or touch your soul.

Why call this piece a Preface then, you ask?

Simple.

Because this piece you are scanning with your own two eyes is a start (an introduction if you will) to a chain of thoughts and ideas concerning writing and various other topics.

Mostly though, these thoughts are centered on writing – you would be wise to think of them as a series of meditations and observations leading up to conclusions. One might even compare them to unproven theories and hypotheses waiting to be validated by a curious and willing mind.

No matter how you regard them, you will be quick to notice that, regardless of their variety, these topics always seem to come back to writing somehow. How, you ask?

I’ll tell you how. Because writing is everywhere. It is lying in wait in a secret chamber, hoping to be unlocked by a wanderer passing by. And the key to unlocking that hidden chamber, you ask? All it requires is a bit of observation; a contemplation of the world that seems in constant motion around us – that is the key to writing anything and everything.

Now you’re probably thinking, ‘How can it be that simple? After all, it’s the easiest thing in the world to just look around and observe things.’

Well, curious reader, allow me to answer you with a question: have you ever wondered why some people struggle to put their ideas to paper? Why writing is sometimes associated with an excessive workload, why it is often labeled a burden?

Why can’t all people write? Or more precisely, why DON’T all people write?

The answer lies in the few lines cited above: because not all people observe the world properly. Not all people go through the different transitions and changes in their lives while also taking the time to process them and reflect on them.

What few of us know and even fewer realize is that we are forced to take countless decisions on a daily basis. Have you ever wondered what kind of impact the slightest change in one of those infinite choices can have on your life? That is the true meaning of writing. Its purpose, so often overlooked, transcends whatever choices we make or actions we undertake during the finite lifespan we have on this earth. You see, writing is more than merely scribbling words or sounding poetic: it is a sacred act which enables us to open endless gateways and explore many realms lying far beyond this world of ours. By the simple stroke of a pen, we are capable of creating portals to unexplored worlds – some perhaps more fictitious than others – that allow us to take a step back and stop our former selves from straying away from our paths, or leap into the future where we are able to project our dreams and strive towards achieving them.

In a world governed by corruption, power and greed, we sometimes tend to overlook the importance of sitting down and writing. But we should never lose sight of the immensity of writing; for the writer is a watcher, a listener and a storyteller. He is the mystical conveyor of hope and inspiration where there is none. Where most people face stiff boundaries, the writer traverses with ease. He is the time traveler of his era and the safe keeper of its secrets. Whereas other men abide by nature’s law and perish at the end of their mortal lives, he is an immortal figure – a testimony to every soul he has interacted with, every place he has visited.

So in many ways, what you have just come across is a Preface – but rather than regarding it as a form of courteous introduction, think of it as a beginning; the start of a journey deep into a mind, a world, a life….common places and recurring events as witnessed and told by this ‘pretend writer’ – and possibly experienced by you at some point of your life.

From here on you will embark on a trip that will offer you a glimpse of this writer’s world. So bear with me, dear reader, as we walk along the grueling lines of light-hearted humor and brutal honesty, crossing the narrow passage of privacy, retracing the intimate steps of every thought, every flicker of memory that has nested in the confines of my mind.

What you will read might seem comparable to a diary, a personal journal that keeps track of the day’s happenings, but it is far from that; what you will read is a series of personal experiences turned to printed testimonies of a man reflecting on his life. And once you start reading those pages – think of it as standing above a deep well filled with thousands of screaming folks – you will have engaged with a voice that is different from yours, and shouted from your spot deep into the well…in the hope of rising above the mounting noise and hearing the echo of your voice.

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