Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Rebellion


I am not a scribe. When you talk to me, you let me walk into your mind. You let me pick up and examine your thoughts; to experience your feelings; to rejoice in your exultation and suffer in your disappointment. I listen. I don’t interrupt. I let the words flow out as I nod and understand. My eyes don’t leave your face while my hand scribbles down memories. Once you’re done, I write. I write those words you couldn’t bring to mind at that moment. I bring to life that passion not expressed in your voice but evident in the sparkle of your eyes and your clenched hands. I build visions and open vistas before your reader with mere words, words that come from your mind, yet words that would never have formed themselves in your thoughts. I am not your scribe. I am much more.