Why I Write
Do not kill the part of yourself that is cringe, kill the part that cringes
- Some internet post
One things that has been a constant my entire life is my ability to make stories.
Some of them were me making up outrageous lies that everyone around me believed others were me doing projects for English class, but most of it was me acting out in an, admittedly annoying, display of maladaptive daydreaming (this especially got bad when I discovered AMVs and Nerdcore and my taste in music was expanded). Regardless of what medium it came through I never forgot any of the stories I made.
Whether it be turning ants into magical warriors on an adventure or seeds into eggs that will hatch grand monsters. From making chairs grand mountains for my heroes to overcome to turning ice cream to a powerup. All are still in my head.
As I grew everyone around me made stories up but as we got older only I continued. In primary school we went from playing pretend to just writing and drawing (a skill I struggle with and will never become as good as some of the ones I saw). I couldn’t just play pretend I had to start writing since drawing seemed beyond me.
Then Highschool hit and suddenly having a bunch of doodles and writings was weird and I had to stop. Hanging out with friend and coming up with jokes and cool ideas was still okay though. Reading and watching stories was what was all the range there…then it turned out that while I likes the silly Japanese cartoons all everyone wanted to talk about was the latest series from Netflix or HBO or something since cartoons was for kids.
The few I could talk to about my interests I had little else in common with and when their other interest came up I was unable to follow. I still made some great friends, but I wanted to continue to push on. Where they were okay with only seeing the show and enjoying it, in my mind I was taking what I have seen and started expanding it to whatever I could, creating fanfictions and head canons I never shared with anyone.
On and on it went until I got bored of it just being in my head.
So I shrugged my shoulder opened a webpage and started writing whatever was on my heart at the time. A lifetime of not saying what is on my mind having leant to me analysing things in whatever way I could so I could always get used to writing and not forget.
Then someone looked at something old I wrote and asked if I still felt that way and I said no. They then asked if I would get rid of it and were shocked when I not only said no, but said I would try my best to take it to all platforms I go to.
When asked why my answer was simple, I don’t want to.
I write so that the person I was in the past can say something to the me of the future first and foremost. No matter how cringe I become or sound I want those messages to still be able to reach me. Whether I be 9 or 18 there is still something there I could teach myself.
When I explained this the next question was ‘I thought you remembered everything you want to write?’ and that is false.
I remember every story I want to tell…in the long strokes the specifics change and morph, but the long strokes remain. I remember how I felt in the past in the long stroke and sometimes the specifics are what you need to move forward.
So, to end this is a pretentious way by explaining the title in one line at the end: I write so I can know and remember the person that I was at the time that I wrote.
