Home » A Wasted Life » Murder Mysteries » These People Called Writers

These People Called Writers

These people called writers are a breed apart.

Some writers post random pictures and create guffawing humorous stories as if they had been privy to the conversation just as the camera shutter snapped, capturing the subjects who will forever be frozen in time.  

Some writers have the ability to use their words as a medium to create hauntingly beautiful pictures, which literally take your breath away as you read the illustrations they have painted.

Some writers sit at their computers and feel as if they’re bleeding to death, all the while hoping for rescue, or seeking solace from a bottle or a pill or a bullet.

Then there are always those,
Who are able to write magnificent prose,
With words they very carefully chose,
For the ones who fought, or fled or froze.

Some writers pen stories of broken angel wings, and flowers blooming in the dark.

Some writers shed tears, pleading for mercy and begging for understanding. Their keyboards become caked with salt that hardens like they fear their hearts eventually will.

Some write about hopes and dreams that were never realized.

Some writers bring tears to your eyes, and break your heart while you helplessly join in their poignant journey to the end of their life, after having been diagnosed with a fatal illness.

Some writers tell about their scars that may have been self-inflicted, or may have been the result of an accident, or a horrific trauma.  They tell about the invisible scars left from unspeakable suffering that can’t be seen.  They tell of wounds that caused those scars; wounds so deep they will most likely never recover, but they put on a brave face and soldier on, trying to deny that the wound was fatal.

Some writers weave used memories and secrets into tapestries, meant to offer a hint about what shaped their lives and made them who they are, but no one wants to remember.  Those same writers are told that no one wants to hear their story, and denying someone of his or her story is the worst kind of suffocation.

These people called writers are a breed apart.

7 thoughts on “These People Called Writers

  1. As we’ve discussed, I have given up hope of my comments managing to stick on your blog. They almost always vanish into the ether, through no fault of yours or mine. The WordPress gods apparently do not smile upon my efforts.

    But, after a long run of not even attempting to make an attempt, I’m going to try again, and I’ll keep it very short:

    This. Is. Brilliant.

    And beautiful.

    Despite your gentle swatting-away of my belief that you are a terrific writer, you have proven once again that you are.

    Kudos, my friend. Kudos.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Saints be praised! Your comment actually showed up. Oh shit! Do you think this means that it’s the end of the world? LOLOL
      Thank you so much for your kind, encouraging words. I should have put a post script. “Some writers have run out of words and their inkwell has dried up.” Sigh.

      Liked by 1 person

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