By Leon Basin

I don’t call myself an international literary writer.

I don’t doubt my place among words.

But names like that aren’t mine to take.

Titles are crowns handed down by the people who read, who feel, who are moved.

Writers, philosophers, seekers—they are the ones who say who we are.

I am a vessel.

A scribe with hands on the keys, trying to capture the light that God has poured onto me.

Writing feels divine.

I feel like I’m not even in control most of the time.

I’m just a messenger who has to bleed on these keys.

This is how I make sense of the reflections in my mind.

Can you get paid for that?

For exploring the infinite layers of humanity through yourself?

Eight billion lives reflecting pieces of the same great whole.

We are mirrors of each other.

We are scattered across every level of this paradigm.

I want to write for all of us.

Not in the way of preaching—but as a voice among many.

The Word Weaver.

Not a name I take but a truth I hope to embody.

My words are threads connecting the seen and unseen.

They reach for the angelic flow that hums beneath the noise of daily life.

When the beat hits right, I write with a consistency that feels like a gift.

Other times, the light dims, and I fight for even a few lines.

But the call remains.

I’ve thought about how to frame this for the world.

My website, my essays, even my presence on platforms like X.

These aren’t just outlets—they’re bridges.

A way to meet others at the crossroads of thought and feeling.

If I bleed into the words, will the world feel it?

Can they understand the weight of trying to live off the soul’s work?

There’s something sacred in building an audience—not as a transaction, but as a community.

A shared space where words are not just consumed but lived.

It’s why I need consistency, not perfection.

I want the writing to feel like me.

The highs and lows, the divine flow and the human doubt.

This is the testament of a writer trying to make sense of their calling.

So, I ask the world—not for titles or recognition—but for connection.

What do you need?

What do you feel when you read these words?

I write for you as much as for me, for the family tree of humanity we all share.

If God has given me this light, then let my words be a lantern.

Sincerely,

@leonbasinwriter