Why I Write

The man is only half himself, the other half is his expression
This weekend I happened upon a few pages I’d written as a college senior—a stormy time in my life to say the least.

What struck me most was how personal and vulnerable the writing felt. I caught myself nodding in agreement as I captured the difficulties of writing, and to a larger extent, life. How tough it was to find sustainable inspiration and to express a particular understanding or observation in a meaningful way.

I often wonder why I feel the need to write. Why do I continue to guilt myself into writing paragraph after paragraph? Why do I struggle to make something from nothing? I don’t have an answer, but I did find a clue in one of the lines I dug up:

I write because I am only half myself, the other half is my expression. For me, someone who lacks the artistic talent of a painter, who lacks the golden voice of a musician, I turn to writing. I write because it’s the only way to express the other half of my thoughts. The only way to share the rest of me.
Written by Nathan
Just your typical life hacking, minimalist, Generation Y, wannabe productivity writer guy. Hail from the Sunshine State, but dreaming of Californication. Currently reside in Chicago.