Longevity

I want my scriptures to sing—

not loudly,

but with the discipline of a choir

that practiced long before it was heard.

I want the work to outlive me.

Not my name.

The work.

I’m not aiming for fans.

Crowds disappear.

I’m aiming for a seat—

with the scholar,

the professor,

the literature that gets studied

instead of skimmed.

Where psychology meets autonomy.

Where biology explains behavior.

Where creative writing isn’t decoration,

but evidence.

That kind of table doesn’t invite noise.

It invites patience.

So I write with care.

I revise with intention.

I learn what came before me

so I don’t mistake repetition for originality.

This isn’t confidence borrowed from applause.

This is commitment.

I got this.