I enjoy writing because it keeps me busy. I don’t ever sit in my apartment and look for something to do. I find myself skipping out on going out with friends so I can stay home and write. I like to sit on my window seat in my room, and let golden hour sunlight creep across the page I am scribbling on. Words seem to leap onto the paper in a relaxing environment.
Most of us are writers. Most of us are on our phone all of the time. We text serious sentences with periods or send short separate texts to avoid using periods at all. I trace my love for writing back to those first days of texting. It developed through long messages to middle school lovers on Facebook, and it turned into writing cards to my parents when I first went off to college. It grew into one of my favorite ways to spend a night at home. Writing can be funny. It can make us cry. Writing can change the way you think about your existence. Writing is powerful.
I won’t stop writing because it’s a passion that refuses to go away. No matter where technology goes, few things will surpass the feeling of a hand written letter. To us not so artistic writers, who struggle drawing the simplest of things, writing is our artwork. We create beauty on a blank piece of paper dissimilar from the beauty of an artist. These are words that flow and resonate with one another. We take words that are boring in textbooks and craft them into captivating poems. That’s why I write.