#006 - Why I Write
About metrics, dopamine, and the soul I almost forgot I had
This last week I saw a newsletter titled "Why do you write?" and, gosh… it hit me like a wave I didn’t see coming. And trust me, I’ve been smacked in the face by a few already.
You know that feeling?
When a simple question punches you right in the gut and you're just standing there like, “Shit... why do I write?”
I remember when I first started writing. It was just me, random notes, and stories that didn’t fit in my head anymore. I wrote about everything and nothing. Everything and emptiness. About feelings and thoughts. Whatever was going on in my mind.
I wrote because I had to write.
Because it needed to come out.
Because words flowed out naturally, like breathing. There was no Instagram, no Substack, no newsletters, no blinking view counter judging me from the corner of the screen.
It was just writing. Just me talking to myself, or to you, who didn’t even exist yet in my imagination as a reader.
Then came this wild era. The numbers came. The “how to get more engagement,” the “5 hacks to go viral,” the “the algorithm hates this” crap.
And suddenly, writing became a competition.
Suddenly I caught myself thinking:
"Will this post get likes?"
"Will someone comment?"
"Should I write about this, or that trending topic instead?"
You know that kind of anxiety? The kind where you keep refreshing the page, hoping for a new notification?
Yeah. I know it. Intimately.
And you know what happens when you start writing for the numbers?
The soul leaves the writing.
It literally evaporates.
You start writing what you think people want to read, not what you need to say. You start calculating every word, every comma, every joke. You start adjusting the text length to suit the “modern reader’s attention span.”
And before you know it—you’re not writing anymore.
You’re doing marketing.
(Not that I suck at that. Quite the opposite. But it’s not what I want when I write...)
Because at the end of the day, I write to connect.
I write so you feel less alone in your own awkward memories.
I write because there’s something magical in sharing stories that makes me feel alive. Like every post is a bridge between my experience and yours. Like somehow, in this weird way, we can understand each other through words thrown on a screen.
And maybe — just maybe — that “you” I keep talking to... is also me.
The other day I found some old posts on Medium by a guy my age who passed away from cancer. He’s gone now, but the words stayed. The stories stayed.
Maybe that’s why I write.
And don’t get me wrong, this isn’t some hippie "I don’t care if anyone reads this" speech.
Of course I care!
I get stupidly happy when someone leaves a comment, shares a similar story, or forwards my stuff to a friend (assuming that even happens, I don’t really know).
So, why do I write?
I write because I can’t not write. Because the stories get too heavy in my head and need to come out. Because there’s something beautiful about turning an embarrassing memory into a story that makes someone else smile.
I write because I believe our screw-ups are universal. That our insecurities connect us more than our achievements ever will.
I write because, deep down, we’re all kind of lost—and maybe, by sharing these silly stories, we’ll feel a little less alone in the mess.
And if that doesn’t get likes, that’s fine.
If it doesn’t go viral, that’s okay too.
If only you read this and it makes you smile remembering something from your own life, that’s enough for me.
I might never know it happened.
But it did.
Thanks for being here.
Thanks for reading these slightly chaotic confessions from someone who still doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but is trying to do it with his heart in his hands.
And maybe you’ll feel like sharing with me, whether in a comment or a message:
Why do you do the things you do?
When was the last time you did something just out of love, not thinking about the result?
I’m very curious about your story!
🎶 Three Little Dinkus
At the end of every post, I’ll drop three random things — thoughts, songs, or whatever’s on my mind. My Dinkus, every time.
🎧 One Song For Writing
Not just for writing, honestly. This song is good for a lot of things, besides writing and journaling. Could be for an easy morning. Could be for a road trip, driving in the middle of nowhere. Could be for a sunset drink over the cliffs, watching the endless ocean. Could be for a very slow, intimate sex with someone that you have a connection with. Could be for a simple walk with your dog.
I could keep listing reasons to press play... but maybe you should just listen.
🦠 One Story Went Viral
Last year, I posted a funny story — a mix of fiction and real life — on a Brazilian social media platform that’s known for long threads. It was just something I used to tell at storytelling events, and I shared it for fun, without expecting much. Two days later, over 10 million people had read it. Total madness. Things got weird, people got aggressive, and I ended up deleting my account. Social media, right?
📱 One Message Went Wrong
Ever sent a super personal message to the wrong person on WhatsApp? And then panicked trying to delete it fast enough? And when you do delete it, they hit you with the classic “I read it”? Yeah… I’ve been there. More than once, actually. On both sides of the story. Upsiiiii.