Sam posed these questions:

“Why do you write? What is it about your voice that we should know and hear and understand?”

It’s an important thing to ponder; these 2 separate questions.

Driven past the boundaries of human acceptance. The God’s and monsters granted me their admission to witness. No reasons were given.

Just silence.

I waited things out; isolated, watching, observing, practicing patience; I began to write. Anything, really. Thoughts, opinions, prose. Too young to shave. Too old to cry… I hesitated to give into an audience for even though I wondered Sam’s query long before there was a Sam. There was nothing to weigh any of this against until I became a father. And then God, yes! Now, it made sense. She/he shows me the reality of why I have no choice but to write… They’ve abandoned me to this.

I do not know what you should know and hear and understand. I only know why I need to write…