I want to say that's not true. I want to say that it's a state of mind. You don't necessarily have to write, you have to chronicle. You underline sentences you think you can make short stories out of. You footnote moments you can build around. You archive shapes of noses, the way people wriggle their toes, how people like their eggs. If you linger too long on the way someone sticks their tongue out awkwardly, you may not ever write about it, but you know the emotion. The private thought, the joke they're not telling, the shyness, their bodily manifestation for a single second in that stuck out pink tongue. You'll use that. Or you'll plan to, anyway.
You don't make sense of things until you do. You always have an idea you're playing with - a person, a word, a thought, an author, a concept, a history, a newspaper article, a narrative. You're trying to fit it into a narrative. You're pulling it apart and putting it together at the same damn time. You don't realise it, but a moment comes along when you can see it in front of your eyes. I want to say that it looks like a perfectly consistent image, but it's more like an impressionist painting (Monet, most likely. You're staring at it from 2 feet away and all you can see is swirls. You stare at it from the bench and you can only see loneliness). You don't really know what it is. You write it desperately, urging yourself to remember what it was you saw in that moment. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes it doesn't.
It doesn't matter, you think. The important thing is that you gotta write if you wanna be a writer. But then you get older, and you feel like a fraud. The truth nobody tells you is that it isn't enough to write. You gotta write well if you wanna be a writer. You gotta suck up and do the work. Read. Write a first draft. Then a second. Then take it apart and write a third. The truth is - you gotta edit if you wanna be a writer. And you absolutely have to have taste. You're just a blogger if you don't.