Why I Write…?

I ask myself this question more than once a day… why do I do it, why did I ever
start doing it?

It might seem like a relatively simple question to answer… surely I must have a clear reason behind doing one thing each and every day, habitually. But… no, I don’t. Of course, I love doing it, and any person who writes for themselves – for the love of doing it – will tell you that. I’m sure there is a deeper meaning in there somewhere, something intrinsic, woven into my being. But maybe it’s one of those things that are never meant to be found – they just exist, and we don’t question that existence, we needn’t, for it is a part of us.

Though, there are a few things that I do know: Writing, it’s the only form of expression that I find sufficient. You know, all those things built up inside myself, raging like the hydrogen atoms within a burning star; they have to go somewhere, they have to be burnt somehow, otherwise they turn into anger, and sadness, hatred, and regret. Words, at least alleviate some of that, converting them into burnable energy. Another thing, the simple glee that comes from creating a world, populating it with characters, and making those characters feel and experience things as if they were real – creating a mindset in which they are believed to be real. Essentially having magic (I didn’t say the magic worked…) at the end of my fingertips.

giphy1

There are days when I write very little. There isn’t a moment goes by where I don’t wish to be writing more. Some days I question my writing altogether. I wonder whether it is good enough, and if not, will it ever be? Much like the rest of my life, tendrils of doubt spread throughout me, twining their way around my vital organs. And through this, I wonder what it takes to reach the place I’ve dreamed of reaching; if it is possible at all.

How do people survive – living their lives without writing, or without reading? I wonder how that is possible, how they manage to fill those gaping holes that only seem to grow deeper and deeper as time goes on.

So, if I were to give a simple answer to this complex question, it would be:

Because I can. Because what else do I have?Β 

 

-Chris ❀

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18 thoughts on “Why I Write…?

    • I can understand that. It’s one of those necessary things for me. But, there’s also that aspect of… sadness in writing and exploring certain things. Though, I think in the end it helps to get the most painful of things out there – whether in private writing, or otherwise. I hope everything’s going well with you! πŸ™‚ ❀

      Liked by 1 person

      • Yes I think I’m ok…if you can feel OK in February in Scandinavia lol with all that cold & long darkness. Often I’m reading how people are saying (in their posts or comments) – writing reveal this & that, I feel so happy afterwards, I feel uplifted etc..but I don’t know – if I’m writing every day I feel some kind of depression. Maybe also because I’m writing in English (more difficult to express myself), in my mother language is different- I feel fine.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Oh, I can at least partly understand the darkness. I live in the north of the UK. Even here there’s always that lingering dreariness, and dampness during the winter. Though, the days are getting longer now, yay! πŸ˜€ Writing is a strange thing, it makes you both sad and happy. For me though, the happiness lingers fot a lot longer. πŸ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

      • Lucky you :)) glad you are happy when you are writing. By the way, I think when I’m writing on paper – i feel happy, but when on net and blogging – I’m a bit off, depressed… Im a bit old fashion. I think I have to write on paper. But then nobody will ever read it lol.

        Liked by 1 person

      • I get that. There’s something more connecting and personal about writing on actual paper. I keep a diary, and I love it. It doesn’t matter if people read it, not if what you’re writing is for yourself. πŸ™‚ And, you could always type it up later if needed. πŸ™‚ ❀

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Wonderful post and my sentiments exactly about the ‘need to write.’ Some of my earliest memories of writing are from was when I was still at school and I would wake up early to write in my diary. I am not as disciplined as I would like to be now (many years later!) but if I didn’t do something each day, I would be lost.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I write because it is the only way I can guide myself to clarity.
    I write because it is the best way for me to sort through my thoughts and emotions.
    I write to get the crap out of my head, to clean house so to speak.

    I write because I love to write.
    I write because I have to write.

    Liked by 1 person

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