Words

So I told my new pen-friend Cammi that her article had inspired me to write again.

My good friend Plato. Whose name is actually Aristocles. Plato is only his wrestling nickname, because of his broad shoulders.

It is not that I stopped wanting to write.

I somehow feel I have too much to say and yet I am not sure if anyone would want to read my words.

I am told very frequently by “my circle” that I write too much (in chats). Or that what I say is not important to them. Or that it has been thought and said and written before.

That didn’t discourage me. If anything, it makes me write more.

It’s about what I was saying to myself but that Cammi made me want to change.

It really doesn’t even matter if I like what I write. Or if I find it useful.

Writing is about others, most of the time.

((I know, it seems I am contradicting myself (see Why write?). But I am not. I just realized the importance of others in my life. You reach yourself through others. It’s about seeing the reflection of my words in others, perhaps. But it is also a way to show myself to me and to others.))

Even if this is a bad article, it might inspire someone to write something better.

So, as I was telling her in the comments, it is a good thing to strive for to make a dent in someone else’s life.

A bad dent, a good dent. Only time can tell.

(is there such a thing as a bad dent? I don’t think so.)