This was written for Writing 101
Why do I write?
God, there couldn’t have been a more complex question to ask on such a frazzled day. I write because… well, I’m a writer. It’s who I am, and it’s what I do. Since the days when I made up stories to go with the pictures in my Pooh Bear books to today, when I (attempt to) write my own books, I’ve always been in love with words. I write because it’s that only thing I know how to do. The only thing I’m good at, most days. I can’t communicate with people through speech, but I can tell them everything I need to say through my blog, my journal, and every single creative writing piece I’ve written since I learned the alphabet.
I write because I need to.
This is one of those ridiculously broad questions that are so mentally demanding that I just flounder around and make “ifhaerhfsdkjvfe”ing noises as well as elaborate hand gestures to avoid actually answering what was asked. Why do teachers not set up couples in every group of students they have? Why do babies drink breast milk instead of chocolate syrup? Why do I not already have a trillion and one dollars?
These are all important questions, but they’re not being answered. So why should I explain my freaky obsession with *elaborate hand gesture* this?