An Urge to Write :: Personal Narratives Writing Essays

An Urge to Write Everyone seems to have a reason for liking or disliking writing. It seems to stem from past experiences, or things writing has through with(p) for someone or not done for someone. For me, writing is a privilege and I enjoy writing immensely. Its hard to put my finger on one distinct reason I take pleasure in writing but I think one of the causes for my appreciation of writing stems top to about two years ago. I was a sophomore in high school, and it was basically a tradition that my friend Jess and I would get together sporadically on various Friday nights. She would come to my house in the early evening hours, and we would start our passport. As soon as we would turn the corner of my cloture Id light up my cigarette and wed begin our recollection of the weeks events. On one particular Friday in October we began our walk as we had any other. The air had a cool brisk quality about it but we werent really bothered by the sudden tremor and just kept walking. We walked throughout town for a few hours just walking and talking, laughing and acting hysterical and crazy over the most narrow-minded details of that weeks happenings. We walked till the street lights shown bright on the black streets before us and then we went to our usual stop after our walk. We entered the restaurant just like we had so many times before. We took our seat at the regular booth with the torn vinyl and wooden sides etched with the signatures of the many who had sit down in the booth before us. The air reeked of grease and cigarette smoke and was polluted by the sound of senseless chatter from the thirty or so people that crowded this tiny room the size of a large closet. Yet, neither the smell, or the noise or the dcor of dollar bills littering the walls bothered us. This was our tradition as corny and juvenile as it was we knew we would always treasure this special and unusual precise place. We sat at our little booth and be gan our own little chatter fest there.