Why I Write

Sitting down in my chair, my thoughts unlike my body are not still.

Sitting down in my chair, my thoughts unlike reality are surreal.

Sitting down in my chair, like the highest state of entropy my thoughts are disorderly.

How do I settle my thoughts, turn perception into reality, and lull the intense entropy that has overtaken my mind?

I write.

The pen moves with the fluidity of the words pouring out of my mind like the water from a cup.

As I write, the cloudy fog of perception fades, I can see reality.

Like tears blurring my vision, the language builds at the tip of the pen and it all pours onto the page.

As I write, I let out the tears that once obscured my sight. Now I see that the ink of the pen has become my tears.

It's like the tears cleanse me and the words are my testimony.

The pen on this paper feels so right, holy matrimony.

The chaos that has filled my brain calms and becomes orderly again.

But only when I write.

How do I settle my thoughts, turn perception into reality, and lull the intense entropy that has overtaken my mind?

I write.

Sitting down in my chair, my thoughts are now still.

Sitting down in my chair, my thoughts have become real.

Sitting down in my chair, the entropy that is my thoughts is now orderly.

But only because I write.