Why do I write?

A question I kept asking myself, but the answer seemed far off.

Like a lot of things, I did not know. I tried taking some time during my day to think, to self search and interrogate my inner self but all to no avail. I always came up blank, sometimes falling asleep midway and getting the rest my body so desired.

Why do you write?

Friends asked me but I vaguely told them my emotions drove me.

Truth is, my mind is a whirlpool, a clutter of words aimlessly floating around. Writing acts like a string bringing those words together, aligning them on the same equator. It frees me of the distress that causes my unrest, fulfilling my desire to speak without parting my lips. It helps me tell my own side of the story, to narrate my own version of experiences, and to encourage someone out there. With writing, my words attain visibility, permanently penned down and not lost in the air as they migrate from my lips to the listener’s ear.

To be able to write is to be able to express, a gift that allows me to gather my thoughts and collate words in a way I can let them all out on a page.

Perfect? I don’t think so. But it’s definitely Me, Mine…it’s my words, my thoughts, my expression and it’s unique to me!