I wonder why I’m still writing. Is it because I’ve gone this long doing it that I might as well keep it going?
Maybe it’s because of that guy I met when I was on acid. How he kept on telling me that no matter what I chose to do in life, I must keep on writing.
Could it be that I think one day my life will be important enough for someone other than myself to want to read what I wrote?
Whatever the reason may be, I’m personally glad that I continue to write. Even if it is, at the end of the day, just for me.
Although I do know the real reason behind it.
Why I do it so religiously.
It’s because I believe that there is an author to this life, that’s what I see god as. An author. Someone has written all that was and all that will be.
I believe that if I’m to create any sort of change in my life, that I have to understand the kind of an author.
I have to see what goes on behind the ink and the paper. What is written between the lines.
Why do I care for that?
Well because in my mind, by understanding what goes into it, then maybe I can understand why things happen.
If I don’t understand the why, I’ll be stuck I. The mindset of, “why me”.
I don’t want to carry that loser mentality.
I want to think, “of course me”.
That mindset is one that takes what is given and turns it into gold.
If it’s in my story, then so be it.
