When I write...

I believe that the reason I write is because I haven't yet been able to read the story my soul craves and that I want to be the one who creates it.

No story I have written  so far will ever see light of day because I hold them to the same standard as the books I love- rendering each one lacklustre and riddled with faults. Each attempt to flesh out  the stories ends abruptly. It just doesn't fit what it is meant to be intially. Each character has their own soul and I cannot love all of them equally nor can I hate them without seeing some redemption. 

To show someone else my writing, the personal kind, is akin to having it tattooed all over my body for the scrutiny of the world. I seek deep purpose and to write is the only way I know I can try to understand my purpose. It is the only thing I can attach this search to. 

My melancholic musings on life are not because I am dissatisfied or angry. They are merely a reflection of my mind when I can wallow in this desire for meaning.  What shines through are the inadequate aspects of myself that I must one day learn to reconcile with. So I put pen to paper or fingers to the keys in an attempt to foster reconcilliation.

I write because there is no other way to get rid of the words that dance in my mind. To tie them to paper gives me clarity. To create  and complete the sentiment gives me the most serene sleep I can ever have.  I write when it is almost midnight and no one else can ask what I am furiously typing. The world is best when quiet, at cruel hours like 11 pm and 6am when the words want you to stay awake so they can come into being. 

I write because one day I hope to be less mediocre than I am now. To be a better writer would mean my understanding of the world had become broad enough to comment on it. Because as desperately as I try to capture Man in these letters and musings, I yearn to convey my thoughts about just one man or woman.  I crave the ease with which some people seem to write.  I tend to scatter my words, let them mingle with the characters that play out in my head, hoping that one day it will be worthy enough to be read by someone else. 

Someone like you, perhaps.