I write because I love the white, blank page. I write because I am terrified of the white, blank page.
I write to make sense of my life. I write to accept the senselessness of life.
I write because I like to remember. I write to bury what I want to forget.
I write because it makes me happy. I write because it frustrates me.
I write because I am good at it. I write knowing I am no good at it.
I write about the world around me. I write about the world inside me.
I write my uncertainties. I write my truths.
I write for fun. I write because I have to.
I write for myself. I write for the unknown young woman in the future who will stumble upon my work.
I write for a living. I write because if I don’t, something in me will die.
I write out of exhilaration. I write out of despair.
I write because I am lazy. I write because I am driven.
I write because it is my destiny. I write because I am avoiding life.
I write to be funny. I write out my sadnesses.
I write to remember. I write to be remembered.
I write because I am addicted to the highs. I write to tunnel out of my lows.
I write because like eating, it is crucial to my life.
I write because like shitting, it is essential to my life
I write because like breathing, I can’t live long without it.
I write because I have chosen to write. And it has chosen me.
Amen to all that, Gayle! - Cisca