“I Would Leave Me If I Could” a collection of poetry by Halsey. Her poem “I want to be a writer!” took similar words from my mind, jumbled them, the put them on the page. The poem ends with, “It’s simple. Write.”
We seem to forget, or behave as if that lesson is unknowable. We crave the mysterious. The allure of some-thing that makes a some-thing have meaning. What does a painter do? A painter paints. A welder welds. A runner runs. Life can be crazy and complicated. Why complicate things? The advice from writers, as near as I can tell, is to be a writer you must write. From Stephen King to Brian Michael Bendis. That’s it. A writer writes. Otherwise, you are simply a person with a thought. An unwritten thought. Now, does that make you a thinker? Or a person that happens to have acknowledged having had a thought? That’s up to you. Do you care? Does it matter to you? Only you know that answer.
Now we are getting to the nuance of definitions. Other people’s definitions. Definitions that someone told us. Then we try and smash ourselves into this box so we can then define ourselves by someone else’s idea of what it means to be able to be called *blank*.
Words are important. Words are beautiful. Wonderously wonderful gifts created to allow communication between two or more people. Communication through symbols create and agreed upon to relay information. For entertainment, for safety, for greeting. Something we take for granted daily. Failing to properly utilize and appreciate.
So, a writer writes. Words matter. We have agreed upon understandings of words on a foundational level. Yet, the more we progress passed simple words the more convoluted we subject those words to becoming. Words can be manipulated to manifest a desired outcome or result. This is not a political writing, just a thought experiment. Think about what “freedom” means to you. Now, think about what it means to someone else that disagrees with your definition. Wars start. Relationship’s end. Houses burn. Because two groups disagree on the definition of a word(s).
What does that have to do with a writer writes? We determine, through our actions, how we choose to define ourselves. Our work. Our words. Our actions. Our definition.
What is the point of these words? So, today, I call myself a writer. Once, this is posted, with no desired need for validation, you can call me that to.
What do you want to do today, so you can call yourself whatever it is you want to be seen as, defined as, acknowledged as, felt as, or just because?
Then do it. Because a *blanker* *blanks*.
A Vegan Father. Writing to be a writer.
A Better Father 