"I care"

“I care,” said a voice in my head.

“What?”

“You wondered ‘Who cares if I write?’ I said, ‘I care.’"

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You can call me God,” the voice answered.

“Are you God?” I asked.

“I might be. But who I am is irrelevant.”

“You're just a voice in my head,” I said.

“Perhaps,” said the voice. “But that's irrelevant. What's important is that you want to write, and I care. So write.”

“Why should it matter to me if you care, whatever you are?” I asked.

“It doesn't need to matter," said the voice. "It's your decision. My decision is to care or not. And I care. Your decision is whether my caring matters or not. And your decision is?”

“I don't know,” I said.

“Do you want to write?” asked the voice.

“I do,” I answered.

“Then write,” said the voice.

“I am writing,” I said. “I just wrote that. I’m writing this.”

“And isn’t it grand,” said the voice “Don’t you love it?”

“I do,” I admitted.

“Then why not keep writing the things you care about writing?"

"You mean, instead of this?"

"In addition to this."

“I don’t know,” I said. “I could write about something else. But right now I want to see where this goes. Where this leads. So I'm writing to find out.”

“Where does it lead?” Asked the voice.

I thought for a moment. “I don't know,” I said. “Do you know where it will lead?”

“Of course,” said the voice. "I'm God."

I ignored the God part. "Where?” I asked.

“It leads to you doing the writing you care most about.”

“And how will that happen?” I asked.

“Easy. Whenever you get stuck, I’ll remind you that you want to write and I'll remind you that I care,” said the voice. "And you'll write."

“What if I’m not in the mood?” I asked.

“I'll remind you that that's irrelevant. I’ll remind you that you want to write, and that I care, and that your mood is irrelevant.”

“What if I don’t have anything write about?” I asked.

“Have you nothing to write about?”

“No,” I said, “I've lots to write about.”

“Then that's irrelevant. Just write.”

“What if I’ve got lots of things to write about and can't decide which to write about first?” I asked

“Can't you decide?” Asked the voice.

“I can decide,” I said.

“Then that's irrelevant. Just write."

“All right, I said. “I'm going to write an essay about the evolution of political factions.”

“Good,” said God. “Do it!”

"Did you make me do that?" I asked.

"What?"

“I wrote 'said God’ instead of ‘said the voice?’ And then I crossed it out. And then I put it back. Did you have anything to do with that?"

“Are you going to write?” asked whatever asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Then what I am is irrelevant,” said the voice. “Write. Because you want to. Because--whatever I am--I care. Isn’t that enough?”

“It is,” I said. And posted this. And started writing my next piece.