Why I write...

This stream-of-consciousness business was an assignment for a writing workshop I'm taking - note the crabby, pointed anger toward the instructor in the last few lines:

Why I Write...

I write to bring the ugly parts out and make them pretty, literary.
I write so people will read it and find me fascinating.
I write so I can read and see things differently.
I write because adjectives were made for my enjoyment.
I write because not all experiences are collective and someone needs to know and feel surprised.
I write because most experiences are collective and someone alone needs to know and feel surprised.
I write because I am angry and an introvert.
I write because I don't speak so much and would like not to explode.
I write because I can always take it back.
I write because sometimes the words are shameful and delicious.
I write because the words lose their shame.
I write to cry.
I write so I don't have to cry.
I write so that people understand my state, my family, my dog, my understanding.
I write like the man on the corner asks for change.
I write so I don't drink too much.
I write because everyone's stopped telling it straight.
I write because I'm scared.
I write because I like feeling my hand on the paper.
I write because my knuckles hurt and tell me to stop, but I don't.
I write because it makes my stomach hurt.
I write because it's the closest I can come to being possessed without selling anything precious.
I write to make my mind go blank.
I write to look for words to represent feelings that have no words.
I write to vomit.
I write because no one will know otherwise.
I write because everything around goes blank.
I write to be frightened by where the words are tumbling from.
I write because this instructor is making me.
I write because, if I stop, everyone will look at me and think I shouldn't be here.
I write because I already paid for parking.
I write because sometimes my heart beats too fast.
I write because sometimes I feel worthless.
I write because sometimes I feel full of worth.