The charming writer

There was once a boy that didn't really know what he wanted to do when he grew up. He was a very energetic little boy. He always sparkled of an aura everybody loved. He always had a pleasant smile and knew how to laugh about anything, not because he was a dizzy kid, but because he was enthusiastic about everything, about life. Every year he grew older. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...till he was eighteen. He was always charming, he was still cheerful, exuberant and high spirited. His classmates wanted to continuously stay around him. He was neither a good student nor a bad one, average, but the professors loved him the most. He had the power to make everybody in a good mood. Anything serious and boring people would talk about he would be able to transform in appealing and entertaining. He could speak about everything, from politics to cinema, from gossips to values, never falling in banal prejudges or pre-constructed ideas. Everything that came out of his gracious mouth was full of fascinating folds and interesting wit. His allure was irresistible.
The day came when he had to decide what to do. He was yes one of the most enchanting boys, but he had to do something in life. He didn't know what to do, so he started snooping around, trying to discover what more interested him. So he watched movies, read books, he got informed about news and law, he talked to doctors and engineers. Still he didn't know. He couldn't make up his mind.
There was a terminus, a time lap in which he should have decided. His age was the age in which young men usually go to university.
The time came to choose what school to attend, but still he wasn't sure. He knew he was not good, but neither bad in many things. It wasn't enough. He knew at the same time that the moment wasn't a big problem, he could decide another day, he could give a big rain check to everything. But one day or another he would have to make up his mind.
So he decided to study literature since it wasn't really a decision. He thought that that was a subject that wouldn't limit him. In college he would study philosophy, literature and much more.
The time came when he obtained his degree. This meant the time when he should have started working. He knew so much now and he was more captivating then before. He was an attractive man now.
He started writing. He thought that maybe that could be his path.
He started writing about what he could write.
He had so many projects. He thought about them at night, but he didn't know how to start them. He always talked about them with his friends, his girlfriends and his ex professors. To everybody his projects seemed to be very promising, full of good ideas.
He thought and thought. He talked and talked, and got the positive appreciation of many people, not only they respected him, but also respected his ideas.
Years past. Years past, but he still didn't write a novel or a poem or an essay, nothing of that sort, just projects started.
More years passed, but nothing was wrote, even though he was so enthusiastic about it every time he talked about it. He just thought about writing, but nothing was coming out, nothing that was in his mind was reproduced or represented.
One day, after more years had passed, he realized that he would never write anything. He couldn't.
Today many of his admirers visit him still.
His epitaph reads: "The most charming and delightful writer in literature". He became a legend. He is still now a beautiful myth.