On why I write

Why do I write?

I write to organize my thoughts.

To calm the chaos, to quiet the waves, to tire myself out, to stop me from thinking too much and too loud.

To break it all down into tidbits I can chew on, to put to little boxes I can carry around.

I write to understand.

To empathize with someone, to discover where they’re coming from, to put myself in another’s shoes.

To try to rationalize, to try to think what they’ve been thinking and feel what they’ve been feeling.

To see what could’ve been done.

I write to reveal myself.

To unravel deep secrets, to discover hidden strengths.

To find out the core reason for what I’m feeling, to drill down on the root cause and the explanations.

Most of all,

I write to remember.

To serve as a reminder to how I got here, to teach myself “this is how it is done”.

To immortalize the feeling of the moment, to capture all the details, to save what is worth looking back to.

To imprint a memory never to be forgotten. To keep it close to my heart.

I miss writing. My mind is in a million places at once.

Writing is rest, and I am tired.

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