Words seemingly have a succinct eloquence when read by the inquisitive. The written is there for permanence, it stands tall within the ever changing folds of time.
Sometimes I am politely asked, “Why do you write?”
Well it seems I am one of the dedicated few amongst the many, who choose a rather old medium to simply convey our innermost sanctums.
Words seemingly have a succinct eloquence when read by the inquisitive, holding more of a powerful stance as opposed to the verbalizing of feelings or expressions, with regard to a certain perspective or mindset.
The written is there for permanence, it stands tall within the ever changing folds of time.
A footprint in a personal history, providing a means of interaction by the curious, or intuitive, a connection to a line of thought that could be lost through simply verbalizing, a piece of historical personal narrative, which through written articulacy, can bring the reader closer to me.
I write for self-expression, lucidity but more importantly, for clarity.
I may disappear one day in the ever changing folds of time but my words, written during these moments in time, will persevere.
By writing we live on in the thoughts of the readers, think of how many have been before but still are alive in the thoughts of the avid readers minds.
I may not be as significant as such that have picked up the mighty pen but to my gene pool, I am theirs to reconnect.
It’s why I write, in time who knows who will read lines conjured up by a mind compelled to helping others, life is such an adventure, who can say what or where we will be in years from now.
It’s why I write!