I’m a Loner, Amani, a Rebel…
(Intro)

Peace be upon you.

Talent, while inspirational, my love, is overrated. That comes out of a man, which is both precious and admirable, is his perspiration. For the able-bodied, work is the essence that sustains life, the joy that provides food, the strength that builds a nation. For the able-minded, knowledge is the force behind a creation, the plan behind a success, the passion behind a discovery. For a writer, talent is the trophy whore that he spends his nights with, and words are the money that he pays her service with.

Words, when meant, my love, are strong. They change the course of history, they ruin one’s passion for life, they keep two hearts at bay. Say that you love a man, and you will be chained to a responsibility that lasts a lifetime. Write that you disagree, and you will be thrown into a prison cell darker than the stare of a community. Sing that you regret a loss, and you will be embraced by the many. Words, on its own, and deprived of honesty, is the loneliest entity mankind has ever invented to stay in touch with one another.

Loneliness, at heart, my love, is a drug. The more you feel left out, the more you are addicted to what you can do by yourself. No great masterpiece has ever been produced by a truckload of geniuses. No groundbreaking discovery has ever been championed by a committee of arctic explorers, mountain climbers and deep sea divers. One’s urgent need to a solitary state in times of mass hysteria and intellectual blandness is one’s innate instincts to survive a certain uniqueness, a specific excellence, a creative streak.

Creativity, in truth, my love, is a fuel. That burns the midnight oil, that warms the coldest heart, that comforts the wounded soul. The greatest works come from the greatest minds, and the greatest minds come from the greatest courage. To be brave is to challenge, and to challenge is to be creative, and to create is to be divine. One’s mind is not equipped to receive the gift of God, but one’s heart is, and yet, how many times in your life have you been told to follow your heart, and not your head?


None.


My dear, the world doesn’t need another writer; all it needs is a loner, a rebel...