Writer’s Soliloquy

I detest normalcy. With a burning passion, I loathe the dullness of everyday life.

As I live in perpetual flatness, I fear that I may be swallowed up by normalcy.

Everyone aspires for greatness. Everyone wants to be remembered; not a single man in this world wishes to be forgotten. 

Though we all hold great ambitions, this world is so unforgiving. We do not live in a magical world where everyone is special; not everyone is so lucky as to be able to watch their dreams manifest. Most are doomed to an averageness that will be inevitably be forgotten.

I wish to escape from this truly magic-less world.

Thus, I write.

I write to create magic in this world without magic. With this magic, even a mortal can become a god. Even a god can become a mortal.

This magic can bring back the dead. Our ancestors can once again walk among the living.

This magic can end the world. With a single stroke, the civilizations that have been built over millennia can collapse in a blink of the eye.

This magic can create new worlds, worlds of magic. The impossible can become the possible. The only limit is that of oneself.

To avoid the void of perpetual flatness, I give birth to magic. This magic that I leave behind will remain as my legacy: a testament to my achievement. 

With this, I will not be forgotten like the rest of Earth's sheep.

This magic alone can challenge the gods, but I alone cannot.

I need a chance use my magic.

As if I were a reserve player on my high school team,

"Put me in, Coach. Give me a chance. A chance to shine. I won't let you down. Just please put me in, Coach," I say.

This magic I have created is in its rawest, purest form. I need a guiding light to help me refine it.

All of the Greats had mentors to guide them. Heracles could not have become a god himself without guidance from Chiron.

For me to have my ambitions manifest, I, too, need guidance. I cannot do achieve success alone.

Please, help me. Help me fill the world with this godly magic.