Why do I write?
I write to heal.
I write to pour my heart out on blank pages as if to colour a rainbow on the canvas.
I write to express an emotion that has been lurking in the corner of my mind that I had almost forgotten, and even when I have written hundreds of words, that lurking does not go away.
I write to escape the mayhem of life—to live in the magical world that I create.
I write to enjoy the dance of the words on the stage of my journals.
I write to love myself again.
I write to remind myself of my power.
I write to appreciate myself, to feel courageous, and to face my fears.
I write to overcome my agony and enjoy ecstasy like fire and ice.
I write to hate the world for its chaos, bitterness, and dreary.
I write to admire the hope of a little girl and the dreams in her eyes.
I write to understand the pain of a broken woman with a shattered heart.
I write to overcome the inhibitions of an inexpressive father, lover, man.
I write to realize what it means to hang on the edge long enough to snap.
I write to acknowledge the intellect with its loneliness and sharpness.
I write to capture that one moment when life actually mattered.
I write to experience the pain when one thinks one ceases to exist.
I write to travel the time and space with stories untold and unravelled.
I write to listen to the heartbeat of the ocean and what is buried in its soul.
I write to do myself a favour—to let go of my anger.
I write to clear my mind from judgements and opinions of the world.
I write to escape a surging storm inside, which would drown me.
I write to encapsulate the wisdom life brought with it.
I write so that I breathe easy at night.
I write so I can live!
I write to simplify the complexities of a relationship.
I write to sip on thoughts to enjoy my coffee.
I write to smell the ink of experience on the paper of life.
I write to hear the scratching sound of pen on paper.
I write to quench the thirst of my soul—like a parched Earth yearns for rain.
I write to fly like a seagull and dive like a vulture.
I write to swim like a whale and own the ocean.
I write to roar like a lion and mark my territory.
I write to be the alpha of my existence.
I write to feel the blood running through my veins and adrenaline rushing too.
I write to burn in my own fire and rise like a phoenix from the ashes.
I write to be in heaven and hell at the same time.
I write to be jealous.
I write to fall in love with myself again and again.
I write to fill the collapsed lungs with air.
I write to calm the vicissitudes of my spirit.
I write to lay the ghosts to rest.
I write to expose my wounds and apply the balm.
I write to depict the dirty details of that sordid look.
I write to pay homage to the bravery of the soldier.
I write to taste the gravy of words, garnished with emotions, cooked over a slow flame of passion.
I write to change the projectile of sentiments emanating from me.
I write to cry and to be empty again.
I write to admire the courage of the tragedy called human beings.
I write to giggle with success and weep with failure.
I write to smile, and shine, and laugh!
I write to stop my mind from overthinking.
I write to experience the single-pointedness when the external world ceases to exist.
I write for praise, for connection.
I write to meditate, to control my breathing.
I write for the humility it brings to keep me grounded.
I write to remind myself that I am a minuscule moment in this vast bubble called the universe.
I write to explore the joy and happiness of simple life.
I write to smell the wet soil after rain.
I write for ice cream and chocolate.
I write to fill the vacuum of my loneliness with words, emotions, and feelings.
I write to forgive.
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