Preface

Short stories. Poetry. Drabbles. Excerpts. Lyrics. Quotes. Styles. Tone. Mood. Diction. Metaphor. Simile. Symbolism. Irony. Fiction. Nonfiction. Equality. War. Economy. Class. Gender. Race. Religion. Sexuality. Life. Death. Love. Hate. Guilt. Innocence. Liberals. Conservatives. Comedies. Tragedies. Happiness. Grief.

Nearly everything that I know, believe and feel. Nearly everything. Because time will never grant me enough to speak all that is on my mind. Every second I think, and as much as I want to write it all down, not even all of the trees or all of the memory space in any computer has the capacity to hold my thoughts. Not that they are of any particular value. They are just heavy in quantity.

I know the second I put my pencil down and take my hands off my keyboard, I will regret it. Because soon after, I will realize that there were countless of things I could have said instead. And my thoughts will alter in mindset. By then, it will be all too late. I have abused the beauty of language in order to fulfill what I must selfishly proclaim to be right. Before this heart stops beating, I will desperately get my word out. If I were to run on a line that spoke my words for me, I would be out of breath, dying of exhaustion, all the while doing whatever to quench my thirst for knowledge.

I would never walk.