Why Do You Write?

Well specifically, why do I write?

Do I write to make the readers happy? Do I write to document my meandering time? Do I write to prove the existence of my intellectual side and to dispel rumors that I am empty in the head?

Do I write to make up for all the things that I hear on a daily basis? Do I write to make up for all that I leave unsaid in real life? Do I write for all the things that yearn to be said but go unheard in my life?

Hmm. Interesting question huh?

It is like the spring test that you get in philosophy class, with just one question comprising of one word, ‘Why?’ And suddenly, nothing and everything comes to mind. Every possible answer in this world seems to be both too long and too short at the same time.

So why so I write? Here is the glorified answer.

On one hand, I write to say what I cannot say in real life. And why is it that I cannot say it in real life you ask? Well… sometimes I am too polite, others I am too prideful and there are times when I am too slow to retort back my reply. But mostly, I am too chicken to say those things that I want to say. Mostly, the things that I put here are the things that go round and round and round in my head, always waiting for the opportunity to be verbalized. And yet the opportunities come round and round again, but I never ever ever grasp it due to my chicken shit-ness.

On the other hand, I write to be happy, or happier. And to inject some humor into an otherwise depressing experience. I mean life is already mundane, no point making our thoughts the same shade of grey right? I love how a little bit of imagination can brighten up my day, or yours for that matter. I love how a little bit of humor can initiate a whole new way of looking at things. And how fun is that, when you get to document bits and pieces of your life along the way? It gives you the amazing opportunity to look back once in a while and smile because a certain thing happened. And honestly, I am usually surprised to read old posts and recall the feelings that I once felt. So homely and comforting to know that you are still the same old you. At the same time, also warming to know how much you have grown since the last.

So I write, for a multitude of reasons that I cannot put into words. But most importantly, I write honestly of what I truly think and truly feel. At the very least, even if I were to feel violated and cast aside in the real life, I know that I am ok as a person… and intact as a whole when all else falls away.

Hmm, and that is why I write. For me.