Oh that question. Once you’ve written and published enough the answer is more philosophical than tangible. I write, therefore I am? No that’s a bit too snooty for me.

I write because it is a part of who I am. Those who can properly sort out their thoughts can better understand themselves, others, and the world around them. It helps me to be sane when I am crazy, and go crazy when I am too sane.

I write because I have to. If I did not write I would explode. All the passion and lust for life would consume me in a second and force me out of my mind.

I write because I am selfish, selfless, and a fool. Hypocrisy is human nature. We preach the things we cannot always abide by and criticize what we envy. When I write I hope to purge all of that hypocrisy from my being and aid others in doing so too.

But the true reason I write, the reason I got into this business in the first place, is to help others. I never set out to be an author. I was asked to write about my experiences and gained an audience faster that I understood. My life has not been one of privilege or typical mundane routines. There has been a lot of pain, hardship, and loss. Instability created a need for humor. Humor gave me the freedom to laugh at myself and my tragedies. Examining the rough stuff put everything in perspective.

When I laugh life sparkles.

When I write it dances.

When I share these thoughts and ideas with you and you respond, we are as Gods. We share something more real and pure than all the junk sold in stores. It is more honest than every lie the media sells. It is more alive than we ourselves.

And see, once again, I’ve gone off the rails…