The Emptiness of Kisses

What keeps you writing? — A Vagabond Voices writing and living prompt.

It was easier to write when I thought myself righteous, when I was not afraid of showing my face. What would you say of me if you’d know of my true colors of the dirt and viscosity from which within I move? No, you would not like to hear from me.

How do I tell you I have no talent without telling you that? Without sounding like a crybaby? Without making you think, well, bud, this was quite obvious from the start?

There’s nothing like revisiting the past to know where we are now. I revised these notes from when I was a child and wanted to write books. When I wanted to be called a novelist, remember?

What was the allure? Can you tell? I did not know about their lifestyles. I did not know if they were rich or if they were poor. Nor if they had girlfriends, or boyfriends, or friends, or none at all.

I did not know if they had vacation homes. All I knew or perceived, is that they created worlds. Did they? That they talked to me, their characters had adventures I did not have. Nor the author did.

My first book was Airport, by Arthur Hailey. I guess no one should confess to reading such a book. Entertaining but commercial. Nothing one should go around professing lightly around literary circles.

But I’m not a literary type. I like to read long books. I like writing in the privacy of the paper to hopefully one day forget about what I once wrote. I like writing as in a conjuring spell to make a fantasy a reality come true.

Would you come with me? Should I open this door? To this, the other world, where I roam and roam? Tell me, promise me. You will not abandon me in the void, on the emptiness of kisses when they are given, without love.

©Pablo Pereyra 2021. Thank you for reading.

What keeps you writing? — A Vagabond Voices writing and living prompt.

Thank you, Trisha Traughber.