Since no one has asked me, I’ll tell you.
As I age, it is getting louder inside my head. There is a constant jumble of ideas, music, movie quotes, life quotes, good and bad jokes, memories, and all of it is circling. There is so much content that it flows without end. I write to make sense of some of it.
Here is a current example of what I’m hearing at this very moment:
Gather why you write into a few coherent thoughts that make sense to yourself. You write for yourself. No that’s too cliche, I think I need to answer that email from last week, someone just slacked me, let me check, no, not urgent right now. I need to edit that video clip, I wonder how long it will take to help Tim with his music stuff, Ted has his cello so I need to park close to the school to pick him up today, do we have any bananas left? Banana phone, phone home….E.T. phone home, why won’t the stereo connect to my Bluetooth? I need some tunes to help me write, aww man, I need to text Sheila to plan for the weekend, but I really need to concentrate on this blog, my left shoulder hurts, I am tense from my bad computer posture. AI could write all this but that isn’t real so it’s gonna have to be all me. Where was I? Why do I write. That book about the Wright Brothers was really good: future blog…top ten books of my life, but that one wouldn’t be on it.. (Water For Elephants, Crawdads? nah, Emily St. John what’s-her-name yes though…all awesome). I think I need to poo so I’ll break here and organize my writing thoughts from “my office” heh heh heh. Did the guys all see that pumpkin meme I sent this morning? JACK CHOP!
OK. It’s now the next morning. I have garnered some focus as I gird up my loins to take the field of battle. That is also a movie quote. What I mean is the battle with words:
I write because it is a way for me to process memories and thoughts because I, like you, have an interesting life and many stories to tell. Admittedly, it feeds my ego and I want you to think I am clever. Then again, if you don’t, that’s fine. Stop reading.
I write to share my words with you, which allows me to feel connected to something bigger than I am: a community of people who care enough to read them. See? You can’t stop reading. You can’t even really tell if I am serious or joking. You will never know.
I write so I can leave something behind when I am no longer here. Like Elvis, I have an irrational fear of being forgotten and erased from the strings of existence when I am dust. No, I am not comparing myself to Elvis. I have better stage presence.
I write because I want to be heard. Just like you. Accepted for my views and opinions, just like you, and respected and loved….just like you.
I write because the powerful play goes on, and I can add a verse. Thank you Walt Whitman.
I write as I see life through my eyes, and ears. There is beauty everywhere if you know how to spot it.
I write to unburden myself, heal from trauma, laugh at myself, and laugh with the world at large. Words help me make sense out of the senseless. Sometimes it is also the other way around.
I write because I can.
I am nobody’s hero, I am the same as you. Maybe you should write too.
OOH. That was a rhyme. Perhaps I am a poet and I didn’t even know it.
WOW! Whaddya know? THREE IN A ROW!
Let’s close with a poem, shall we? We shall! Everyone loves a solid limerick…
A moron sat in his wheelchair,
Determined to write with great flair.
He typed, “Why I write!,”
Then added, “It takes insight!”
The Pulitzer folks were not there.
Stay safe, stay awesome, and stay tuned. Fun fact: I’m not “in” a wheelchair….I “use” a wheelchair. Also, the Mexican accent word of the day: WHEEL-CHAIR.
“There is only one taco left? That’s ok, Wheel Chair it!” OLAY. I got nothing. Later dudes.
