you're welcome, i'm sorry. (dear you, ctd.)

why write?

it’s a question i’ve asked myself numerous times.

i still don’t know the answer to it.

there are some simple components that i agonize over, and it trips me up every time.

who is my audience?

this may be the hardest of the questions.

do i write for me? i think that i probably do.

which isn’t a wrong motivation.

you really can’t write for the sake of writing.

it is, to me, by nature a chore. it takes time. thought. effort. all things that are in short supply sometimes.

do i write for the masses? as if my words could possibly be important enough.

i think that sometimes i write for you,

(scratch that — i KNOW that i write sometimes for you),

because you need to hear these things.

or do you? why am i arrogant enough to think that you “need” anything, let alone something from me?

maybe sometimes i write FROM you,

inspired by the both the triumphant and the tragic.

my words have been my asset and my downfall. which is which? i guess that’s up to you.

i labor and agonize over my words, and have to decide if it’s worth it.

yet here i am, so here goes:

dear you,

you’re welcome, and i’m sorry.

it’s up to you to decide which of those you believe in.