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Why I write


I don’t have enough time to do my big Trayvon Martin post  today, so a brief note on why I write. When my best friend Kitty died, I realized how much was lost. Everything she knew and thought is gone unless she wrote it down or told someone. She hadn’t written much the last couple years and some things just don’t seem important at the time. For instance, I was watching Lost and we were going to discuss the show when I was done. I was just starting season five when she died. Now I’ll never know what she thought of the finale beyond her cryptic Facebook post. I’ll also never know the grand purpose behind that fake Facebook profile she made. There are so many stories where I only know the general outline.

Everything in my head dies when I do or when I forget it unless I let it out. Writing is something I’ll leave behind, which is why I keep at it with only a few dozen hits a day, half of which are poor saps trying to find Ninja Turtles porn.

Tonight, I’m watching a bunch of movies with my youngest brother, though. Tune in tomorrow.

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