on having no purpose

I don't care about being published.

There. I said it.

It's a secret I have; I don't like mentioning it to people because doing so always makes me feel odd and like I have something to apologize for. "I'm sorry that I like to write but don't care about being a published author. Yes, of course there must be something wrong with me."

I just like writing for what it is. I liked making up stories when I was six; I liked writing stories using spelling words in fifth grade; I liked writing fanfic when I was sixteen; I liked writing terrible novels for the past five Novembers. But I've never been serious about it. Is it so wrong to write with no goal beyond enjoying myself? Must we always think that things are only worth doing if we get something out of it?

This isn't just about NaNoWriMo or writing, of course. I feel like I take life in general much less seriously than a lot of people around me. Of course, I do like having purpose in my life, but I hate when I'm made to feel guilty that my life isn't filled with meaning 24 hours a day.

I like taking long baths and reading trashy romance novels and spending the evening on the internets and, yes, writing just because it can be rather fun.

So there.