My first journal, Christmas present from my parents, in 1995:
I am no writer, but I write all the time.
It comes from a place far beyond where my fleeting hobbies and musings reside. Beyond the valley of likings and the sea of duties lay my life-long bond with writing.
I write because I have to. Writing is breathing.
I write to dream, to dissect, build and search.
It helps me figure out why the world looks the way it does. Why it smells the way it does. Why it moves and reflects light and casts shadows the way it does.
And most of the time, it helps me align my heart with my brain.
It's a way of life for me, and I'm glad I chose the pen.
the post that prompted this post.