"I never started my online journal for the purposes of culling friends and admirers. I began to write for myself - selfish as ever. I began to write as a catharsis, as a means of expression and to essentially explore the deeper recesses of my own mind. I think I've been rather successful in doing that and while not each and every thing I leave behind is so esoteric, it means something to me - and that is what's important. If others find meaning in my words and writing - and I know some do for I am told repeatedly - then how fabulous that we can share some spark of unity in communication! I will continue to write, because I love to write. Often I feel that aside from grandstanding, it is what I was born to do in life. In years past I have been blessed with moments of what might be called enlightenment in those thoughts put to paper both here and privately, and I have countless souls to thank for their inspiration, again, both online and offline. That --- is what matters to me."

Recently, I've found that writing has become something of a chore to me. Suddenly, something that was once so easy and calming had become hard and forced. After reading this (which was actually supposed to be a kind scolding), especially the part quoted above, I feel as if I have found what I've been missing for so long. I have forgotten why I write. I write because I am selfish and because it makes me feel good. Not because I am trying to impress anyone or because I am trying to land a job or because I want to be published worldwide someday--I write because I want to. And yes, it's true that because of my writing I've been able to forge connections with people (whether they know it or not), but in the end, I write for myself. I can't let anything get in the way of that because as soon as I do, those words on the page are no longer my own. They are someone else's.

So, thank you, Monsieur de Lioncourt. Once again, you have found the most poetic yet straightforward way to say the truth of the matter.