Cellar Door

This is why i write. I am sitting at my computer with the hum of the fan and my desk lamp, lacking a lamp shade, is burning my retnas. The televison is whispering dialog and even though i cannot make out the words it is essential, that noise, that lack of silence. To rid the nothingness. Even though my cluttered desk is offering a plethora of distractions I am focused on my task. For the most part because i never learned "home row" that well in elementry school and so my eyes are fixed to the key board as i type. This is my Writng, my naration. When i choose to truly enertaint my thoughts, give them real attention, it will become narration, dialogue. It will become plot. And while a girl is sitting at her desk writing an assignment there are castles taken under seige somewhere and secrets being uncovered and interesting things are happening to interesting characters. With all of this going on there are words being strung together describing the images. The words put together into such an order that beauty could be presented to the mind. Other minds. And then that beauty will become images. And other people will be able to see that amazing story unfold in front of them.

Orwell has said that one motive an author writes is Sheer Egoism. "Desire to seem clever, to be talked about..." I write without a pen. Everyday, whether in a review sesion, a long car ride, a lull in the conversation. I am writing without my pen to paper without my hands to keys. My mind is scrolling out words quickly to keep up with the images. If i choose to put they words into the visual world of other people, i do it with intent on others reading it. Of others enjoying it. Of others being able to share that thought, that fantasy. I am not sure if i would consider that true egoism, but what is a writer without his or her audience? And of course it is a plus if the audience would have possitive notions of the peice. And compliments are always nice =]. I am not saying the only reason to write is for other people. Some people write for themselves. To have that thought exist tangably, to exist in reality in its own way. I suppose i agree with that too.

Some of my writing is for myself, like notes to remember. Some is for others, to be praised like school work. Some is written with the intent of others being able to feel a certain emotion, to imprint on a reader in some way. Some times its a game of Mr. Destiney. I write for pleasure and work. But sometimes that turn work into something bearable. When it comes to writing my ideas compare and contrast with themself consantly. Is this the messege i want? Is this how i want it worded? Will they like it? Will this impress them? Do i like it? There is so much thought that goes into writing yet there are so many great peices that have no deep thought at all.

I write because i choose to, and when i am asked to. I write with pens and key boards. I write with images and emotions. This is why i write.

P.s-Title, Donnie Darko. Watch It.