Humbling, in a way, too. I attach too much to the significance of what I do. Then I look out through the window and see the city of Hollywood, California, stretched out below; I think of all the words being entered on all those computers on just this one day--all those novels and poems, all those business documents and letters and, in this city, all those screenplays; and then my mind wanders back to all those words pounded out on all those typewriters over the decades, many of them intended, but so few of them ever reaching, the "silver screen"... So many earnest people, so many ambitions!
... and here, today, is my small handful of words, cast out into that same ocean. With nary a splash, really. You see what I mean? Still, I keep doing it, if only because that's what I do.
(I warned you: befuddled. If not benighted.)