I write because there is no easy answer – no easy answers – no quick fix. Perhaps no fix it at all. Maybe nothing’s broken. Everything drifts. Sometimes to drift around uncertain shores is fine. Sometimes. Sometimes, to drop anchor, get it down, find my bearings – I should have found them before – but life isn’t like that.
A writer’s life? No. just a life is all I seek. But why seek a life when I have one already. is this what I remind myself of, as I write, I write because…
Do I need to remind myself to breathe? Is writing drawing breath? Writing gives me a sense of purpose – but my writing needs the energy of sensing those ‘live on the wire’ elements that my practising writing online gives me. I can be very energy-inefficient but there can still be writing and at least that is something.
I’ve tried answering this question before. it’s a difficult question to try and answer because I don’t have an ambition to write, as such, it’s just something I tend to do. I enjoy writing, but there are many other things I would enjoy doing more. Yet at least there is this. To be alive, to breathe, to write, to get something down, to draw a line between me now, me again in the future, maybe me in the past and perhaps as far and wide as all the way over to you as you read this, whoever and wherever you are. If there is even a you there. If there is not you, there is still me.
i write because I can laugh at myself, or despair as I shake my head and tut at myself and think ‘oh well!’ and leave it just as it is. I could try and pretty it up later. But I’m not even trying to be a writer. i just write because.
I’m not supposed to be editing, this is supposed to be a let-it-all-loose free-writing excercise. Why does excercise not have a ‘c’ after the ‘x’? It always had a ‘c’ after the ‘x’ on my school excercise books. When did we lose the ‘c’ in our english ‘excercise’.
Writing as a form of ‘excercise’ perhaps seems lame. Yet the calories a twenty minute session of writing burns off can be surprising. Writing makes me hungry. that’s a good enough reason to write, to feel, to feel hungry, to feed, to have another reason to remember to eat and to excercise and to breathe and to wear it out like a three year old and I might have used that quote before and I am rambling and then … I guess my anchor slipped loose, did I remember to drop it or have I swayed in the drift… is writing because in drifting along a causeway there is some destination that should not be missed?
When there is no mist, on a clear day, writing brings a sense of purpose and a feeling of achieving something and making good progress. Life is a journey where none of the maps that have ever been written seem to offer any tried and tested route. There are no guarantees. No passenger tickets. No viable fares. No path to wander. Of course there are all of these things to be found and to be seen but it’s as if they all exist on another planet. I’m not sure what planet I’m on. But there is ground beneath my feet and air to breathe in however thin the atmosphere. And the world keeps on spinning. It can be dizzying.
So I write because if that’s all there is then it is at least something. Even when that something is nothing.
One minute to go. What would you do with your last minute? Would you write? I write because I am writing, becasue I am writing I can remind myself I am alive. i draw breath. and then my time is up!