If you're not overconfident, you have no business writing.

Even if in actuality you lack confidence and feel entirely too self-conscious, the act of writing things down as though what you felt was of any importance and anyone else would care is an act of extreme cockiness, of egotism. And yet you overcome this thought because the thing must be written. Sometime you have to shout out quiet things really loud so that people can hear how quiet they really are, above the din of senseless petty conversation and vacuous rockstar blithering. Sometimes you have to be a prick to get people to notice just how nice you really are.

This is why introverts who cannot find a means of expressing their constantly tumbling epiphanies in some alternative way - an alternative to talking to friends or writing a television show or whatever it is that extroverts do - die a slow, hard-to-watch death as they accumulate the cobwebs of years of living inside themselves, cluttering their attic with games never played, secrets never shared, loves that died without finding their targets. Express or die - so though I am far from hale of spirit, I write and share this as though it were the show-stopper of the day, sentences that everyone will read and nod their heads in recognition.

This isn't so, but if I didn't make myself believe it were, I would cease to write, and I would become a living skeleton chilled to inaction by the freezing winds of too-quickly passing time, looking at my clock and wondering when it will be over, hoping to have an accident, dreaming about worlds that don't exist.