Who's got the power?

‘Finding Forrester’ came to mind today. I think it was in a conjunction with the desire to write for the sake of maintaining my mind clear, uncluttered from the daily crap that life in general has to offer. What came to mind in fact was the chance to write without stopping, without giving a thought to the words that were flowing from the annals of what? Of something hidden inside, of what some may say is talent while others may say gibberish. I read somewhere that writing a lot, compulsively is actually a sign of a tumor in the brain, of a benign brain cancer that is disrupting the blood flow, that is slowly eating away from the tissue, that is killing, inevitably killing the organism.
But a little optimism here, COM ‘on, a little faith that everything functions properly.

Let’s say that one belongs to the first kind of writers, those that have (or believe against all hope) talent. Ultimately however, the judgment belongs to the general public. It belongs to the reader, to you. You are powerful, absolutely fucking powerful!
You have the chance, the will, the opportunity to decide whether this gibberish makes sense to you, whether it needs to be dispersed to the masses of other folk, the late followers, to pass to them the power of decision…and they to their generations.

Enough for now, though. ENOUGH I SAID! You may be on a way to gain power, but power is also concentrated into the pen of the writer. One has to decide to put pen to paper, hands to keyboard, mind to reality, in order to grant thoughts and ideas to materialize and only then to let you be the judge. In this case who is the powerful? WHO IF NOT THE ONE WHO WRITES?