Why We Write

I often wonder, what does “writing” truly mean to every individual who does it. The people around me who write all do so for different reasons, some for the art, some for reflection, but what is the one universal thing all of us have in common? We Write.

I believe writing to be such an important art for humans to keep alive, it’s as important as any technological advancement or spaceship launched to Mars. Without literature, prose, poetry, journalling humanity would be lacking the most crucial functions — critical thinking, analysis, understanding. If writing dies then communication dies, how would one express their emotion with a lack of words.

“She feels as if a book is writing itself just behind her; all she has to do is live. But there is nothing.”
― Annie Ernaux, The Years

I wish more people would express themselves through writing, it can be so relaxing to just write down any old junk, get your thoughts out, clear your mind. As someone who constantly has to journal to stay sane it’s so crazy to think that others don’t do the same. I journal to remember, to clear my head, to relive every small moment of my day, week, month, for years. I dont want to forget any small detail, i musn’t let age take its toll; It frightens me.

Growing up as a polyglot changed the way i see language compared to my friends. Thinking in so many different languages, in different situations. I almost can’t escape the need to read, write and maintain my thoughts; Often writing letters to myself, or those around me in hopes of instilling as much appreciation for writing as i have held deep in my heart all of these years. I urge everyone who reads this to pick up a book and just let it slowburn, feel every word, every sentence that you read, and really let it sit with you. Some of my favourite books include :

• The Years — Annie Ernaux
• A Room Of Ones Own — Virginia Woolf
• The Professor — Charlotte Brönte
• Ella Minnow Pea — Mark Dunn

Writing allows so much creative freedom, putting down the pen feels like the world around me starts from the beginning, from that point anything that happens will be a new entry, a new idea, possibility, opportunity. The world keeps spinning as i keep writing, typing, leaving a physical trace of me behind, one that will long outlive me. Although nobody may think their work to be earth shattering, in the future there may come a time when somebody reads it, and it’ll change their outlook on life, or their perception of happiness. That’s what matters, not how far your work gets, but getting your work out there, even if it’s seen or heard just by you, at least it’s heard.

One day i hope to write a memoir, though i dont believe its ever too early to start; These 18 years have lived me well

This is a piece of writing i did on my Substack : https://open.substack.com/pub/retrouvaille now although self advertising should be dead, i do sort of the same thing in writing here, so if anyone likes my writing and wants to see more id appreciate any support over on substack !