Why do you write?
I am mainly sticking to small towns in rural Colombia. Often as I walk, I think, and the other day this question popped into my head.
Lately, people have asked me what I do, and I say I write. Then I get asked what I write. Usually, I respond with my life here in Colombia or write about history. Both are true.
Yet why do I write?
I write to tell stories about my life, and writing has been therapeutic since I started putting words onto a computer screen. It has helped me gain clarity in my life, even if sometimes I write myself into and out of a situation in one post.
I write to get what is inside my head out, which does not always make sense. I often hope it translates or it does not.
Yet that is why I write to see where the bugs are and investigate them, almost like giving myself a self-cleansing session but in my brain, head, mind, and psyche.
Also, an online diary, as I have never kept an actual journal; this might inspire others, but I have no idea. I often think that my life is a mess, and I feel that I try to convey that anything is possible if you put your mind to it, and I hope that I inspire others to realize that it is possible to get yourself out of the muck and the mud, and continue.
That is a bit of why.
Yet I understand that others have other objectives for writing.
I like to tell stories of my life; some want to tell you how to live, make one billion dollars, or push some ideology upon you. These have been popping up more later in life and online.
Therefore, I must curtail my readings and stick to those I know will never disappoint me. I read, but I don’t always comment anymore.
I read for the pleasure of reading. I write for the joy of writing.