The true reason why I write

   On my drive back from my brother's house I was gladly listening to public radio as I usually do every Sunday evening. You see Sundays are quite special, because I get to listen to some local songwriters tell their stories on the trusty air waves, but today was a little different.... today my friends it was extra extra special.

   There is an unwritten/unspoken script all of us musicians follow when we get invited to the radio. We all know our life story has to sound extra interesting, we know to fluff up the fluff, promote our own shows and never, and I mean never show artistic insecurity. But today's guest was so disconnected from the norm, he was one of those unique wacky characters I won't forget for a long, long time. His honesty was so piercing the radio host was nervous to ask innocent questions, this troubadour however had a lot to say and the lack of questioning was not going to stop him from speaking his mind; He spoke about the wars (him being a vet himself his perspective was powerful), attacked the government , spoke about how he dislikes music industry and its falseness, and in this avalanche of honesty he would casually drop some f-bombs to drive his point home.

   It was a little confusing at first I must admit. Was I listening to the ramblings of a madman? How did this guy get on my favorite Sunday show? The host was so nervous and I could tell, his usual confident calm voice sounded like more like somebody who can't find his credit card at the Walmart checkout on a black Friday.

   After about 30 minutes of what I would only describe poetic torture . The host managed to ask his colorful guest "Why do you write? if you have no interest of performing out?" the tortured musician did not hesitate, he welcomed the question like a kid who was waiting for his piece of cake at the party "Why do I write? so I don't kill myself, thats all". Up until that response I was laughing along at the disaster the whole hour had been, and found myself deep in my own thoughts.

   Why do I write? Why do I write songs? Why do I write poems or share blogs? am I just as crazy as this man? I would love to tell you I've figured out the answer, but the story does not have an ending yet and it might be because I'm still drawing breath.

   Maybe I write because I need to, because sometimes the paper is better at listening to my confession, and the 21st century version of a writer's desk is a common device called laptop. Maybe I write because I'm always aware of my own mortality, and if I'm gone tomorrow I want to leave a little something behind... something that this world can remember me by.

   Its very unlikely that I will have children of my own, the fourth decade is around the corner and the passing of years make the idea even less appealing. Maybe these letters and these songs are in a way my children, or maybe I'm just destined to be an old man scaring a radio host armed with my acoustic guitar. I don't know, but for today and just for today I'm not going to worry and write a little more.