Journal Entry, June 22, 2012 (Why write?)

I am wondering about the purpose of reading poetry, or anything else, for that matter.  For myself, I read to make myself a better writer.  And then I wonder what the purpose of writing might be.

I write, anyway.  I define myself by it, am inspired by it.  I am inspired by my slim success, an I am deeply depressed and frustrated by my lack of great success.

I write to find a connection between me and the rest of the world.  I am trying to write myself into the human race, as if someone might look at my words and think “That’s me, too.”

And, I suppose, sometimes, that is why people read, to find out they are not aliens despite the alienation.

So my goal is to find that connection between me and everybody else.  My next question is: Am I failing the human race or are they failing me?


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