The beginning of March slipped away quickly. Friends were in town [which was wonderful], but my time to read was limited. But towards the middle of March I was able to set aside more and more time to read. And I've noticed a slight difference. Life feels just a little bit slower. My mind just a little bit clearer.
Why write when tomorrow you will likely forget my words? Why write when quite possibly no one will read these words? Why write when there are so many other, more qualified, more educated, more articulate writers out there?