I am a writer of stories.
This is how I am. Whether or not I get published or famous or paid for any of this is irrelevant. I think in stories.
When I get taken by an idea, be it scientific or fantastic, idealistic or catastrophic, romantic or tragic, mundane or profound, it wends itself into my being in the form of a story. I play it out in my mind; I traverse the stage, I make the journey. Wherever the idea goes, I go too. Whatever the idea feels or achieves, I experience it simultaneously.
I am ideas.
I am the communion between what can and what ought and shouldn’t be. I am the union of the impossible and the imaginal. I am the child of what can happen and how to think intelligently.
I am wonder and brilliance and the intimate truth; I am thrilling. I am ecstasy and staticity and indominability. I am all that furls and hides and seethes in the under.
I am dreams.
I am all the truth in the world.
I am memory.