I write because there are rooms in my head with doors shut and locked with do not disturb signs hanging from the doorknobs.
I write because the rooms are dark and I can hear, at least I think I can hear voices that are talking to themselves, singing to themselves, raging at themselves and worst of all- laughing at themselves.
The laughing is the worst sound of all of the sounds making their way out to the hall.
I write because there are galleries in my head- some are filled with paintings, some of the galleries are empty except for the paint chipping off of the walls and dusty handprints pressed against the windows. I write because the galleries have people lost in the corridors and all of the people I see look like me when I was young and some are me when I am old and some of them glide through the galleries like ghosts.
I write because of the stories in my head and if I don’t let them out to play, I think they will invite me in and I just might never leave.
That is why I write.
WordPress Blogging U: Day One: I write Because…