“Words are loneliness.” – Henry Miller
You find yourself late at night in a quiet room. There’s no one around; no movement, no noise, nothing to break time into small pieces. You are alone. And you begin to type words on a computer. While the entire world seems to dream, you type away all the dreams you have stored up in your heart. Slowly, maybe even painfully at times, you write all those dreams into existence. They take a different form… not quite alive, but not as dead as they feel when they’re trapped inside your mind.
And, at the same time, the night feels less lonely. You feel less lonely. The darkness that’s smashing against your windows, it’s not bothering you anymore. You are alone. You dream alone. Yet, in solitude you find what most of us never really find… yourself.
You are free to roam through a world of infinite possibilities, a world of immense hope. You are not living in the present, or dreaming about the future, you are not being haunted by the past. It’s not this world you’re inhabiting, but you are building a new one. A world that could never exist, and you know it, yet you hope it might… someday.
There are a thousand voices inside your head, screaming to be heard, begging to be set free. It’s magic, and it’s a kind of magic only you can experience, because it wouldn’t make much sense to anyone else. It’s not pretty, it’s not easy or fast, it’s not even supposed to be.
Because that magic gets translated when your story finds a reader. And that’s when they see what magic is all about. Because, odds are that they are alone as well. If not, your story builds a barrier between them and the rest of the world. Yet they do not feel lonely.
In those moments, as the real world becomes but a shadow, two people are sharing the same dream, the same vision. They share more than we could ever hope to share with another human being. They share parts of their souls that we’d never allow anyone else to see.
That’s beauty like you’ll never experience it again. That’s magic, real magic… because only magic can make you feel like there’s someone else, out there, who dreams and thinks about the same things as you do, who sees the world in the same way, or asks the same questions.
And it all starts in an empty room, on a dark and lonely night.