“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.