“No, no. I will sing dirty songs on the way home.”

“Nee, nee. Ich werde schmutzige Liede bei der Heimfahrt singen.”

It’s 6:30 AM and I’m in Washington D.C. airport after a red-eye from Phoenix. I have a 12-hour layover and plan to…write.

It’s all good.

It’s even welcome.

Oh, I’m also reading.

Reading letters I wrote (yes, with a pen on paper) to my parents when I was something like 23 and lived in Germany.

This Is Why I Write

Well, it’s partly why I write.

The other (main) reason is that I cannot not write (yes, that’s a double negative).

I have to write.

I write to live, to experience, to “see” what happened through my own words.

It might seem weird but yeah, whatever.

Do you write? Why do you write?

I wrote then and I’m thankful I did.

I’m writing now and I’m thankful I’m doing it.

I will continue to write.