Why do I write? Why do the birds sing? Why does the moon smile at the sun and dance for him every night?
Because it is a necessity. Without writing I can only speak mortal words. When I write my words are immortalized. I am an ink-blot stain on the blank canvas that is humanity.
Words are unrestricted power. They have such an immense gravity that they can cripple society and birth new life.
I am nothing without writing. But then again, writing is nothing without a writer.