I guess that's it. I must write. I have this inner urge, this visceral need to write, to put into words what I feel at all times, at different occasions. I think I need a witness, perhaps, several witnesses to my life. Is that the driving force then? I don't know, all I do know at the moment is - for me writing has become essential to being. If I am to live, and go through the motions of every single day I must pen all my thoughts down. No matter how in-congruent they may be.
I have tried to write some random strains of thoughts here and there, but, now I feel I am at point where I must take writing more seriously, more as an end, rather than means to an end. I have to start writing a full length memoir of my life... is that too presumptuous? Is that affected? Am I being arrogant and self-possessed in believing my life is worth being written about? But, wait why do I even think that way? Perhaps, because writing means assuming other people, known or unknown, reading what I have written. It implies my writings, my thoughts, my life and all my experiences are worth the time and attention of other people?
It might just be that no one ever reads what I painstakingly write of, so why am I jittery? why am I so self-concious? what is the reason? why do I have butterflies in my stomach? and why do I feel that I must have something grand and large to write about, that my life must somehow be on a stupendous scale if it is to be talked about? Are these my own fears? Fears that put blocks in my way, that are stopping me from being fully who I am for I don't want to end up being someone I am a stranger to!
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