On Writing

I write everyday. Everyday. That's how I know I'm a writer. I wake up and jot down my dreams. I have my coffee and write down how jittery I feel, if some grounds made it into the cup, if it's simply too hot to drink. I write about how reading the paper makes me think of my mother and watching the morning news reminds me of my father. I eat my breakfast an write down the witty banter between me and my roommate. I get on the bus and write about the freaks I encounter and how the views of the city from the highway make me feel like an adult and wish for an office job. I come home and take my dog for a walk and write about the extravagant houses I see and talk about how you can tell a lot about a person by what they put in their front yard. After dinner, I write about my hopes and dreams, telling myself that if I'm not already a celebrity, then I surely would be within the next ten to fifteen years. And as I fall asleep, I quietly take notes on the darkness of my room and how funny the shadows being cast by my window are. I am a writer because I don't know how to speak, eat, breathe without writing it all down first.