Some astronomers and philosophers make the grand, if not absurd, claim that we are ten thousand things, but one substance.
Perhaps ancient stardust.
I have my own absurd claim: behind one single article by a seasoned writer is the weight of one thousand books, one hundreds movies, hours of lectures, a litany of song lyrics, countless days of conversations, dozens of poems, and so on.
And it’s this sort of commitment to working, learning, and playing hard that separates the good writer from the great.
How far are you willing to go to be absurd?