Ten Things a World Without Writers Would Be Like

This is for all those people who told me to “quit writing and go out and have some fun”.

10. Monday morning, I sat in Cafe Blue, listening to the tedious traffic pass a millisecond per minute. The place wasn’t crowded yet, the morning rush abated by the sickly sweet winter, which made bodies ache to cling to their blankets. A couple who had overcome this desire, sat across from me, fighting the age-old fight of who loved whom more. “Spencer”, for that was his name, “I love you more than I love my seven cats,” said the girl.

Spencer smiles, maybe even blushes a little. I’m the type of person that clings to blankets. I don’t know what boys look like when they blush. Like you know any boys at all, says my subconscious sarcastically. Don’t listen to her. Not the girl, don’t listen to my subconscious.

Spencer continues, “Rita, I love you more than I could love the sparkling sky and all its stars. And if had a galaxy in hand, I would name it after you. Such is my love for you” he says with an open unabashed smile.
Rita looks at him like he’s gone crazy and storms out of the cafe. She isn’t used to people talking that way.

9. Sangeetha says she wished a guy could speak his mind for once in his life. The average sum of the vocabulary of all her boyfriends combined was “sandwich”, “tea” and “sex”, mostly in that order. I don’t know how the tea sits in their stomach when they’re having sex…As opposed to your vast experience in sex?…but I’m a person who knows nothing anyways. Don’t mind me.

8. There is a sparrow sitting outside the window of the cafe. I wish I knew what it was thinking, but it was just a bird, an animal. It couldn’t put its opinions into words. But so couldn’t we. Then don’t have opinions, retorts my subconscious.

7. Shakespeare from the supermarket waves hi to me. His ramblings never made sense and people looked at him like he was hallucinating. I think I should go talk to him, but I never had the courage. Or estrogen. Thank you, subconscious.

6. Padma said a text seemed too impersonal to propose to her boyfriend. Would putting a squirrel’s torso on his bed work? It seemed to work for her cats anyways. I didn’t say anything. But I thought it was too macabre. More than the thoughts in your head? Ok we get the point, stop it.

5. Agatha fell in love with a doctor. She arrived at my house one winter evening saying, “Look, he’s written me a letter!” And I was like, whoa! We sat with warm sugary tea, watching the sunset from the balcony, and I opened the letter with eager, shaking hands. And, and …it looked like a medical prescription. I put my questions to myself. Like, what, he couldn’t say something romantic or like memorable? As opposed to your imaginary boyfriends? Sigh.

4. There was no music to listen to or books to read. Mark spent his time sketching, but he created a new art form called abstract. Because he just couldn’t describe his pieces. And who understands Abstract anyways, right? Says the third heir of Leonardo Da Vinci. Shush.

2. My emotions became a thing too heavy to bury in my chest. I wanted to let them out. Somehow. I did not want to showcase them or be perfect for anyone. I just wanted an outlet. Was that too much to ask for? Well, I was expecting a 3… Ya, I’m not a writer so don’t expect continuity in my thoughts!

1. I digress from this horrible world. I do not want a world where one cannot express in the purest form of expression. What good is our development and our technology and our love, what good is it to be humans if we can’t do the one thing that sets us apart from other species, and do it beautifully? If you cannot put your thoughts on paper, why have thoughts at all? Subconscious?…

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