What am I doing here? Why am I blogging all of a sudden? To be sure, I absolutely love writing and reading but it’s always been a private affair. Always, that except for the last four years when I have shared my writing with friends and family. Writing is grueling. It is a never-ending hunt for the elusive “word-perfect” but the hardest part about being a scribe is the inherent voyeurism involved. A little window into the author’s soul is opened in every word they scribble, be it a hastily crafted sms or an exquisite sonnet. The resilient permanence of the written word fills the author’s heart with fear and yet the writer is inspired, compelled to do one thing: write! Why?
I wish I knew. I suppose I can only speak for myself. I’m a captive of two jailers – fathomless curiosity and stubborn creativity. There are other outlets for captives such as I but for me writing is my parole of choice. Putting pen to paper, or finger to keyboard, calms the raging thoughts and feelings that surge through my soul with piercing screams. I’m sorry for disturbing this corner of cyberspace but hey, I write not because I can but because I must, I truly must!