Oh, certainly there have been those times. Truthfully, I think those are the only times it’s worthwhile to lay pen to paper; without that “urge to procreate in syllables” my writing feels forced and flaccid.
Many times the desire to write is simply a desire to play with language, much like a cat might play with a skein of yarn. “Let’s see what I can do with this,” I might say.
Other times, it’s deeper. Some of my stories are therapeutic: I write to bring up an emotion or a strand of thoughts and examine them. Thus brought to light, they cease to bedevil me.
Still other times, it’s to have fun.
I assume these are the reasons many of us write, but perhaps you have your own. Thanks for teasing this out of me.