Why I write

It’s not about romanticizing writing or the creative process.
It’s not about preserving ephemeral insights.
It’s not about knowledge sharing.
But I am about all of those things.

I write because I forget. Because I lose interest. Because chaos rises.

These notes let me revisit any topic. Skimming through them, I can resume my project or learning progress.
They give a semblance of a structure to my chaotic thoughts.

Though I may forget most of what I read, I like to imagine my subconscious absorbs the information, processes it, and resurfaces it when I need it.
With enough faith and wishful thinking, one day, it will come to me when I call.

It will come to me when I need it, and one day, it will come to me when I call

— Schmendrick, The Last Unicorn

Put differently, the target audience is me, but I’ve come to expect detailed research-y and academic-y articles from myself (or past self).

(It ends as it starts—abruptly.)

This post is too short, so here’s a talk worth your time: Dyslexia and Comedy - Liz Miele

Fin.