A Necessary Introduction

Exactly when does one deserve to be called a writer? Of that, I have no idea, but I still would like to call myself that.

People communicate every second of every day. A juicy gossip here and an important announcement there, language is one of the aspects of humanity that separates us from other animals. The ability to interact exceptionally with one another by uttering a bunch of syllables to form an audible, sensible sound is nothing short of extraordinary. You know what is just as wonderful as that? The ability to make sense of symbols that we call letters and numbers. Fundamentally speaking, it is wonderful to think that a mere compilation of these symbols has a powerful effect. It can hurt. It can inspire. It can be a source of dismay. It can change someone's life.

In my case, I would like my compilated symbols to evoke a sense of genuine, naked humanity through creative writing. I am certain that everyone wants something timeless to leave behind before they breathe their last, and I am no different. Through my short stories and novels, I want to influence people. To create timeless pieces of literature that will be relevant for a long time is my life-long goal. However, I am well aware that I am still far from even seeing the finish line with my own eyes. Through this blog, I want to hit two birds with one stone: practicing my writing and expressing myself.

Writing is lonely. More accurately, it is an activity that demands loneliness. As a person with depression, I have sometimes wondered why I had settled with this pursuit. If I may be honest, writing actually drives me nearer and nearer towards insanity.

Nowadays, people are destined to be salarymen. I do not want this post to be about political philosophy, but I would like to share that I am an anarchist. Now, assuming that you, the reader, believe in the current general idea of "anarchy" and the concepts involving it, I would like to inform you that you have been misled. For this, I would like you to read works of iconic figures of anarchism and learn more all about it.

With that being said, everybody who knows me has always seen me as idealistic and proud. People judge me for being unemployed since I graduated two years ago and dropped law school one year ago. My loneliness is a combination of my depression, lack of people's understanding of what I want to do, and my overall beliefs (and the lack of being with like-minded people thereof).

I have ideas dancing in my head. They are so crowded in there that some of them want to be manifested in the physical world through my writings. Yes, I may be farfetched, stubborn, or perhaps out of my depth, but writing is something that I am compelled to do.

And I have no motivation other than the desire to be listened to.