Why I Write

It’s 2:22 a.m.

My fingers tread lightly on my keyboard as my roommate sleeps, seemingly undisturbed by my typing.

Pretty sure I’m the only one awake on my floor.

Not sure how I’m gonna handle having a curfew of 11 p.m. at camp this summer.

I write best when it’s quiet. When no one else is awake.

When no notifications are lighting up my phone.

When there are no distractions from the reality of my mind.

So, I write.

Because if I didn’t, if I just sat there wallowing in my thoughts, I think I would eventually go crazy.

Instead, people type that shit out and call themselves writers.

So, that’s what I’m doing.

Pretty convinced that all writers are just as crazy as I am, though.

Why else would I be writing at 2:30 a.m. when I have class  at 9 a.m. tomorrow?

It’s because I need to.

I have this urge to. And if I don’t, I would go even crazier.

So maybe one day I can make a career out of writing.

I hate deadlines, I hate word counts, I hate people telling me what to do. I hate when people edit my writing because that means that I’m not good enough.

OK, I know that’s not what it means.

Obviously I’m not perfect.

Does practice really make perfect?

Because I practice every single day.

And maybe I can learn to deal with the deadlines and the word counts and maybe even (gulp) my editors, if it means that I get to write for all of my life.

Before college, I never would have guessed that writing would become so important to me.

But in a fast-paced world with so much to say and do throughout the day, you can see the appeal of taking the time to sit down, get away from all the distractions, and just lay it all out there on a blank document.

Freaking lay it all out there. And there will be people who hate my writing.

But there’s also gonna be people who need to see the words I’m typing, the things I’m writing about.

Because maybe, just maybe, it’ll make them feel like they’re less alone.

Then maybe they’ll realize we’re all struggling, yet there is hope.

And if I can do that, even for just one person, then it’s all worth it.

Cliché as hell, but freaking true. I’m not trying to change the whole world.

I’m just trying to change my world.


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