Who are you writing to, Dad?
Dedication: To the one who passed by and left a trail
I stayed up a lot yesterday, here I am waking up late and dizziness nests in my head, I did my daily morning chores, took my diabetes and blood medication, then came to my desk, my middle son Aws was lying on my computer and sweating from it, I approached gently and found him bent over some short stories. The short stories I wrote there. I did not want to annoy him, perhaps I wanted him to read some of what he wrote and criticize me. I looked and saw that he was entering the forum with my membership. I was astonished: “How did I turn on the computer while I put a complex password for it with letters and numbers that have nothing in common, and how did I enter my page while encrypting it with a spell that I only know? Me and Al-Dossary?" He raised his head gently and whispered: Dad, I did not turn on the computer, nor did I open your page, but I slept and saw a ray of light emanating from your office.
I looked at him with an encouraging look and returned it with a confident smile, forcing me to ask him: “What do you think of what I read?” He shook his head as if asking for help. Then he said: “Imagine, father. I did not understand much of what you write in some details, but in general, I am proud of your writings…” I interrupted him: “Enough compliment and present the truth?”
You know, Dad, that I love you and pity you...
Pity me?! What do you pity me?
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I do not know, father, but, I see you spending your life writing stories that you do not find much luck in reading, but some pass by putting embalmed responses that do not indicate that they have read your work.
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What is the problem? Who knows that I am looking for readers?
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Why are you writing then?
I write for several reasons, subjective and objective, that is, reasons related to me, and others related to society, life and the other.
- What are the reasons related to you, and you carry these stories in your mind and can you keep them to yourself?
Look, my son, many ideas and innovations are buried with their owners and do not find an opportunity to cross over to the other because their owner did not dare to disclose them, knowing that they could have benefited individuals and the group. This and also I write to resist death...
Resist death? Didn't you tell us that it was predestined for us and that we are all dead?
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Yes, but I did not mean this physical death, but by death I mean without leaving a trace in this world. In another, see the biographies of the ancients and the history of human thought and civilization, you will find that we find bliss and refuge in some of their wisdom, arts and sciences.
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But, Dad, you don't provide science that people can benefit from.
Your words are true to some extent. People look at sciences as technology, physics, media, and software, and they forget about human sciences such as languages, art of saying and psychology, which can be in the form of a story or an artistic vision that a person intends to find answers to his various questions. We may mean a literary monument in search of a base in the language that we missed, and we may take a moral charge from the hero of a tale that makes us face challenges and get out of the circle of helplessness and weakness, ...
- Dad, I want to become a writer.
Who are you writing to, Dad?
Dedication: To the one who passed by and left a trail
I stayed up a lot yesterday, here I am waking up late and dizziness nests in my head, I did my daily morning chores, took my diabetes and blood medication, then came to my desk, my middle son Aws was lying on my computer and sweating from it, I approached gently and found him bent over some short stories. The short stories I wrote there. I did not want to annoy him, perhaps I wanted him to read some of what he wrote and criticize me. I looked and saw that he was entering the forum with my membership. I was astonished: “How did I turn on the computer while I put a complex password for it with letters and numbers that have nothing in common, and how did I enter my page while encrypting it with a spell that I only know? Me and Al-Dossary?" He raised his head gently and whispered: Dad, I did not turn on the computer, nor did I open your page, but I slept and saw a ray of light emanating from your office.
I looked at him with an encouraging look and returned it with a confident smile, forcing me to ask him: “What do you think of what I read?” He shook his head as if asking for help. Then he said: “Imagine, father. I did not understand much of what you write in some details, but in general, I am proud of your writings…” I interrupted him: “Enough compliment and present the truth?”
You know, Dad, that I love you and pity you...
Pity me?! What do you pity me?
I do not know, father, but, I see you spending your life writing stories that you do not find much luck in reading, but some pass by putting embalmed responses that do not indicate that they have read your work.
What is the problem? Who knows that I am looking for readers?
Why are you writing then?
I write for several reasons, subjective and objective, that is, reasons related to me, and others related to society, life and the other.
Look, my son, many ideas and innovations are buried with their owners and do not find an opportunity to cross over to the other because their owner did not dare to disclose them, knowing that they could have benefited individuals and the group. This and also I write to resist death...
Resist death? Didn't you tell us that it was predestined for us and that we are all dead?
Yes, but I did not mean this physical death, but by death I mean without leaving a trace in this world. In another, see the biographies of the ancients and the history of human thought and civilization, you will find that we find bliss and refuge in some of their wisdom, arts and sciences.
But, Dad, you don't provide science that people can benefit from.
Your words are true to some extent. People look at sciences as technology, physics, media, and software, and they forget about human sciences such as languages, art of saying and psychology, which can be in the form of a story or an artistic vision that a person intends to find answers to his various questions. We may mean a literary monument in search of a base in the language that we missed, and we may take a moral charge from the hero of a tale that makes us face challenges and get out of the circle of helplessness and weakness, ...