Waiting For The End

Why do I write?

I write because I was and somewhat still am too shy to speak up.

I write because my written words are way more powerful than my speech.

I write for the same reason I breathe: because if I didn't, I would die (I. Asimov)

I write because the world is loud, but words are louder.

I write because words may not make the world better, but neither do wars.

I write because I'm me, and only writing made me realize, my opinion is worth it, my voice is worth it, my ideas are worth it.

I write because I feel nothing unless I write it down.

I write because my head is a jungle, and sometimes I get lost.

I write because my life is far from perfect.

I write because, Des Cartes said 'I think, therefore I am'. I write, therefore I am.

I write because there is a voice within me that will not be still. (Silvia Plath)

I write because otherwise my thoughts may kill me.

I write because ... I write. I write because I don't need a reason to write. Some paint, some sing, some dance, I write.

I write because the author in me, she is the real deal. She is hidden, unseen, invisible, but she is the real deal. She is the real one. And until people see her, she'll keep on trying to be seen.

I write because I'm one, no one and one thousand.

I write because I read, and I know what reading does.

I write because you read.  I know the difference a smile at the worst moment can do, and if my words can make your day just a tad bit better, then even going to sleep at 4 am to finish a chapter will have been worth it.

I write because life is unpredictable.

I write because nobody listens.

I write because it may just be the only thing standing between me and insanity. (from tumblr)

I write not because I choose to, but because I have to. I have to because there are all these lives inside me that will nudge at me until I write them, and you have no idea how loud they are sometimes.

I write because Silvia, Tara, Emily, Samantha, Joanna are me and I am them. I write because Silvia, Tara, Samantha, Rebecca are not me, and I am not them, but I wish they were. I write because Jake, Lukas, Will are real, even if only in my head. I write because all these people in my head deserve a voice too.

I write because speech may fail me, but written words never will.

I write because life is nothing without imagination.

I write ... simply, because it sets me free.