I know a lot of writers. All different sorts of types of writing. I can’t say I’ve read all their stuff because I haven’t but I respect them. All of their hard work and their dedication to what they need to express in their writing is very impressive. Devotion to self-expression is impressive.
And I wonder, what are they writing for?
They know why they are writing and what fuels them. Maybe it’s catharsis. Or to figure something out. To add their unique phrasing and ideas to the world and be authentic within it. Or to hear themselves talk.
Maybe they’re proving to their father that they truly can follow through, they do have talent. Or they don’t feel real to themselves unless they’re writing, that maybe they’re invisible until they see their typing on a page.
Each of us has a story to tell and a reason to tell it. I don’t think it’s important to know anyone else’s Why but my own. I write to find out what I have to say and how I feel about things, my world, and you. And I am addicted to the writing process and the self-discovery.
And I’m writing on behalf those who feel they don’t have a voice. For those who feel invisible and unheard. I write for the girl I used to be and to help you become who you need to be.
I write to exist and I exist to write.
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