What if I were to write a book?
What would I write about?
Should I write about the things I like?
The ones I've experienced?
Or the things I dislike?
Experiences I wish I had lived?
Stories I wish had been told?

Why should I even write a book?
Who would buy it?
Who'd be interested in reading whatever I had to say?

Shall I write a book?
About the Sun being a bipolar entity?
About the Moon being so inconsistent with the one task it has been assigned?
About the Waters confidently mounting territories, dividing the nations, causing damaging innovations?

Oh what then shall I write about?
I have no memory of yesterday.
I cannot properly articulate the happenings of today.
Tommorrow seems too far and I've become impatient.

I should write a book.
A book about my dead pet.
A book about my resting mum.
A book about our failed society.
A book about my premature babies.
A book about our destitute country.
A book about our failed attempt at democracy.

Maybe I should just read a book.
A book that teaches me to write.
A book that mirrors the life I want.
A book with a thousand and one words.
A book that's filled with poems and rhymes.
A book with more illustrations than words.

Maybe you should write the book.
I'll be your first buyer.
Promise to be your first reader.
Let me know when you write the book.
Then I might be ready to write a book.