I woke up at 8:30 a.m. in a panic because I thought that today was Monday. My temples throbbed with pain, probably from eating too much salt the Saturday before. My brain is recovering from Cabernet that I smashed on Friday night before while enjoying the fellowship of two, soon to be four, fantastic sweethearts. I write because life is momentary. In this life, we will pass through it once and I want to be remembered. I write because I have a lot of information, emotion, and affection to share. The way and things that I cannot express in words flow on paper like wind brushes your ear. I write because the power of the written word will surpass my fragile existence of flesh and bone. I write because I am brilliant. I write because it is fabulous. I write because when I am dead and gone, you will get to know me better. I write so you can see the real me on paper, permanently. I write to ensure that only the positive can come out of my mouth.
I write because words build and break the foundation of a nation. I write because I matter. I write so that others need not write a single word. I write to create. I write to be the last vampire who can read all the books in existence only to become the last man writing. I write to be noticed. I write to silence the warmongers who start wars because of their words and beliefs written by other inspirational humankind. I write to communicate. I write to fill these blank pages with my heart and soul. I write to write more and more. I write to live a life of writing. I write to inform people. I write to persuade people. I write to help you to see your path. I write to elevate you to be whatever you want to be. I write to you from the most powerful position in the world, a writer. I write because I am free to do so. I write so that people can sing my songs. I write so that people can tell my stories. I write to elevate others. I write because it is extremely important. I write because most people will not. I write because I am too old to be a pop star. I write because I have a lot of stories to tell. I write to practice my writing. I write to practice my reading. I write to remind myself that there is still information in my mind that I can share. I write to tell secrets. I write because I am brave. I write because writing is the most honest form of presence. I write to hopefully one day use the money to pay for my writing. I write to create and destroy like a wizard. I write to document my life and yours over the next 5000 years. I write to give people hope. I write, so mote it be. I write, right now, to smoke a cigarette. I am the most fortified to write because I have a notebook and a pen. I write because I read. I write to burn the memories of time onto paper. I write to know people. I write to talk to myself. I write because I am to write novels and stories about literature. I write so that I do not forget. I write to write away the pain in my left leg. I write through the pain in my right arm. I write to get the smell of ink emanating in the entire living room to rid the kitchen of the smell of Terrier and Chihuahua urine. I write because I am happy. I write to clear my mind of all the irrelevant garbage that I heard throughout my whole life.