Not that you were even wondering

…why I’m doing this. But here is why I write.

I write because I have to. I write because I love to. I write because it keeps me sane. I write because I like watching the words appear on the screen when I use my computer. I write because I like watching the words appear on the paper, flowing from my pen, when I write in a notebook. I write because I am a good communicator and I enjoy making contact with people through the written word. I write because I can be a lousy communicator and sorely need the practice. I write because it is easy. I write because it is extremely hard. I write because I always knew that I should. I write because there is always someone out there who can be reached. I write because the writing of others has helped me survive. I write because the writing of others has taught me that no matter how isolated or misunderstood I feel, there is always someone who can share my feelings and understand me. I write because there is always someone out there whose struggles make mine pale in comparison. So, I write because I can. I write because I have to.

My favorite place to write

My favorite place to write

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My morning walk

When it comes to being a creature of good habit, I often do a very poor job of it. I can never tell myself things and take myself very seriously because I always know that it’s just me saying it. It took me years to learn to get out of bed on time so that I would not be chronically late. Every day I told myself the same old lie — I’ll just stay here in bed a few more minutes — and every day I fell back to sleep until well past the time that I needed to get up in order to start my daily routine in a “timely” manner.

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