I never want to go back to work. I know most everyone feels that way, but I don’t think it’s all for the same reason. Some don’t want to go because they don’t want to work, and others don’t want to go…for who knows what reasons! As for me, I don’t want to go because I would rather read. Rather read and write, really. When I read, as well as write, it takes me to another time. Another dimension. It’s like rising above the clouds into the starry galaxy. All the other suns you could travel to, different worlds you could encounter. You experience something you may never experience in real life. You learn. You learn about what’s in another person’s mind, what they think about. Everyone has a little bit of themselves in their main character, or characters. You may never know that author, but you get to meet a little piece of them.
I want to stay home and experience different worlds, different galaxies, and know who people really are through their words. I want people to know who I am, and the valuable thoughts that I have to write down. I want to show others through literature that people matter. Each one of them. God has made them individually, and they are unique and made for a purpose. We’re not made to just meander around and act as if this world means nothing. But it’s difficult for me to show people, tell people by just passing them each day. I want to show it through a different world. A different atmosphere that we don’t encounter today.
But there’s a fault in that: I have to go to work every day. I have bills to pay and I can’t just sit at home and travel to other worlds while letting the reality of it all to go unpaid. Oh, how I wish I could, but sadly, that life does not seem to exist for me. Through words others will reach lives, even my own. And through words, I will imagine other lives.