Why?

Why is the world the way it is? Why are people incapable of just letting each other live in peace? Why do good people sometimes do bad things?

Those are some of the whys I’ve been pondering lately. But the biggest one, perhaps because it’s personal, is why do I write?

I haven’t so far been able to fully answer that question. Certainly there’s an element of compulsion: I’m in the habit of writing, I don’t feel as if I’ve accomplished anything if I don’t write each day. I also relish the learn...