The breath of life

Last night, throughout my turbulent on-off sleep pattern of which I've become accustomed to, I was forced to endure one of those pesky little irritants we call nightmares. I was not being chased by some ghoul, nor was I trapped in a graveyard of mutant zombies, oh no it was so much more horrific than that, a concept that could crush my very existence should it ever come into fruition. I dreamt that all forms of writing: fiction, non fiction, even boring statistics book, were banned indefinitely. All books were just simply gone, as if they evaporated into the heavens. When I would attempt to sit down at my type writer, the keys were held like concrete. In a panic, I rushed to the library to find my once beloved place of solace to be nothing more than a vacant structure of what once was. I collapsed to the ground, chest breathing heavy, and attempted to collect my thoughts. When I began to conjure a new story, I experienced the most dreadful writers block I have ever known. My eyes shot open, my body encased in perspiration, and I was relieved to see it was only some mental tale of horror when I saw my cherished collection of poe sitting in its rightful place. Though exasperated, it was only a dream thank the heavens, but thus, it sparked my thinking. What if we woke up one day to find all the literature of history suddenly non existent and the inability to create any thing further? I for one, would be a lost cause. To take away literature would be to strip me of everything I am. My soul, irrevocably tattered and my being, shattered to the core. Books are so much more necessary to the continuance of human life than we know. They allow us to explore fantasy worlds and real characters who speak to us in the very deepest of ways, far more than our increasingly shallow society will ever. We have our mathematicians, and our rocket scientists, men and women who make it statistically possible for us to overcome elements and natural obstacles, but what of those mental boundaries we must also live with? That is what the vast world of literature is for and very much what it is all about.

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