Salt

Dear You,

I'm trying to write as a writer who is worth her salt should. I hug across my chest and grasp my arms gently, to remind myself not to get carried away whenever, my wildly imagined thoughts say 'We..e..e..e'. Immemorial to my volition. I didn't think so. See, I AM ALREADY CARRIED AWAY. Would you still care to stick with me as I write this letter? No, I haven't touch on any specific subject and it is quite arduous to join the dots to my flailing thoughts right now and let the show begin. What show, you ask.

A new paragraph. Now, the cohesion is forming. I see it. It finally makes sense to focus on the subject 'Why She is Actually Worth Her Salt (As A Writer)'. Very bold. You say, surely she isn't measuring herself up against an entire salt shaker. Fortunately, not. Half a salt shaker worth of salt is all I give to myself. It is fair to give yourself half that much of something which you actually think you are skilled at. The lies we tell ourselves sometimes, you say. Lying does have its inconspicuous qualities if you give it a chance once in a while. It really does. Does it all seem light and airy to you? Oh dear, we are both carried away-up till now.

So, would you still want to stick with me as I write this letter? Promise I will not falter. We have come to this latest paragraph as I write and still, we have yet to discuss the subject. What is the subject? You do remember, I trust you do.