I write

because I can. The ultimate
luxury and perhaps even
self-indulgence.
I write because

I hope that my words can
make a positive difference to
the world. To change its gaze.
To lift its expectations. To bring
connection, interest in others,
selflessness. To share a sense of wonder,
of awe, of infinite
possibility,
which is
alive in every human
and in near-every relationship.

I write
because
it brings colour to
my life. It scares
me, for it may be experienced
as weak, or insipid. Yet it
is put into its physical
form with such hope,
passion and
sometimes
even firm
resolution.

My gift is
to write. To use
words
to paint things, and dull
the pain.
I write because without
it,
I’m not quite sure
why I’m
here. And what
a waste that would
be. I write because
even at its
worst, I see the
beauty
on the page. it has been
lived, and now
it can be
experienced by
others, as
a shared
connection. A glimpse
into what amazingly
is our shared soul, whoever,
and wherever we
may
find
ourselves.

In the end, this, truly is
why
I write. Now, today and
always.

~Lu