Why Do I Write?

Why do I write?

Good question!  I am fond of telling folks that my blog has a dedicated readership in the low single digits.  That enumeration includes me, my girlfriend’s sporadic browsings, and couple of other folks that on rare occasions pursue my ramblings. At one point I had a fantasy that some of my articles would spark other folks to comment and generate some discussions.  Like so many of my dreams and aspirations in this life that has never really materialized.  I am okay with that at this point.

I suppose I write with an audience in mind,  but that audience is frequently me.  When I have someone or a group in mind it is more to avoid hurting or offending.

I write because lately for some unexplainable reason I feel compelled to do so.  If there is a goal or purpose I must be in the process of discovering what it is.

I write because it helps me explores thoughts, issues, and the general human condition.  While I frequently mull these things over in mind, there is something about taking keyboard and screen in hand and creating the digital images of letters and words within the cyber-universe.  To write is to attempt to clarify.  It directs one’s thoughts.  It frequently drives me to do a little research.  Is that the way it really is? Did it really happen like that?  Did he really say that?

It helps me to digest.  I will read an editorial or news story and will put a link to it on my by blog.  Generally when I do so, I will write a synopsis or at least make some brief commentary.  It makes me think about what I have just read.

I write so maybe I will not be that old man telling the same story or anecdote over and over.  “Jimminie-christmas”, I will say to myself, “If they really care they could read it on my blog.”  Then I will just smile to myself, take a sip of my Jameson on the rocks, and continue rocking. 

I do feel the need to share some of the stories of life, but I am not vain enough to think anyone else really cares.  We live, we die.  What happens in between matters a little to us and hopefully a few other folks.  Then it is over, and it is someone else’s turn to matter for the instant that is our lives.

I could just write and put my sophomoric ramblings in a folder or notebook.  However, just the thought that one other person may read what I have written focuses me.  So I take my words and share them on this blog and a couple of other places. That perhaps is my vanity with this.

Mostly I just write for me and to quell the compulsion for a while.  And that is good enough.