I write because there are things inside me that need to be known, to be heard. I write because there is a knowledgeable (even if sometimes irritating) voice that says this is true, and it makes me feel happy to understand this. Writing, to me, is like therapy, conversing deeply and intricately with someone who cares. With it I can forget the things that have hurt me and accept a painful past, banish the fear that lingers like a hungry monstrosity of unimaginable origin, and mock the horrible absurd things in life that others seem to embrace along with all other bad and troubling aspects of human nature. It helps me to understand myself, and others, and I hope to use it this way to help people, to inspire and enlighten them. Yes, this is a big dream, but why not? :)
The words that come out are often poetic, light and full of soothing things, and I hope that whoever reads them will read them again whenever in need of a good thought to dwell on, for I do at times.
Also as often they sound like the ranting of an insane, paranoid maniac who sees imaginary creatures in the dark. But they aren't real...right? *winks* Since horror enthusiasts agree that being scared and/or creeped out can be fun, it also works this way as well.
I also write to bring up possibilities of what wonders could lie beyond the world, or what could be hiding in it amongst oblivious people. Let this be sinister yet humorous brain-sucking aliens with a taste for good literature, strange and horrifying beings from some other alternate reality, or even an unlikely hero who seems evil at fist, but isn't. The Voices in my head are not malevolent, and they don't tell me to sacrifice animals or assassinate prominent political figures, (and even if they did, I sure as hell wouldn't listen!) but they tell me to create creatures and odd worlds where amazing things happen, and to make characters who encounter these creatures, often in the most terrifying of contexts. In an abstract sense, all this mirrors the chaos of my life and many others, and I know many of us create to undermine the quite unpleasant aspects of life and to make darkness seem less threatening.
Another reason I write is to dispel negativity, to prove to myself and perhaps others that being weird is not necessarily a bad thing, and to have control over at least something in hard times where I feel completely helpless, adrift like a leaf in the wind.
Being paranoid at times inspires the most amusing, if not disturbing images, such as what could really lie behind the shower curtain in the bathroom? A slimy otherworldly thing that wants to make a painless incision in the back of your head so it can have a nice, cozy home inside your brain? A ghost with a dry sense of humor? Perhaps even a hallucination brought on by the mind-manipulating aliens standing behind you, watching, amused, at your silly antics.
This gift of words is something that can be given and unwrapped over and over again, and it is something I hope no one ever throws away. I love it, and want to use it to make tales that will inspire wonder, hope, disquiet, laughter, and perhaps even things far more profound. Even though I have only been writing for a short time, I know it is meant to be, and feel as if I have been doing it forever.
So, why are the inner voices teasing, and just why do you think writing is pleasing?