Some Days I Wonder . . .

Why does anyone write? To express themselves creatively, to garner feedback from like-minded people, or to challenge or expand others viewpoints?

For me, it's a means of reducing stress, placing my favorite characters in outlandish situations and circumstances, having them say or do things that make me laugh . . . or cry.

I don't write to change the world, to challenge or debate someone's beliefs, but I write to give myself an outlet for the ridiculous notions that mosey through and set up camp in my mind, to give myself an opportunity to improve or clarify my stream of consciousness, and to educate myself about myself.

It's an exercise I attempt each day and like any other, there are days when I just don't want to do it, or feel I have nothing left to pull out of my gray mater. Still, I do it, just because of the freedom it offers to escape for a few hours.

Is it my dream to have my convoluted ramblings published for the masses to consume? No.
Is it my desire to have legions of fans clamoring for the next installment of my bombastic and often blatant smatterings of willful verbicide? No.

It is my desire to explore the freedom I have to write however and whatever I wish, to spread a table before me, overflowing with fanciful and disconnected ideas for my own consumption.


Some days, I just have to get things off my chest . . . like today.

Will I feel differently tomorrow?

Perhaps. Perhaps not.