As the video I was watching came to an end, I hit the like button with a smile.  My playlist of liked videos on YouTube, as well as my subscription box, was full of inspiring, hilarious, and heartwarming videos made by ingeniously creative people.  Lately I had formed a small obsession over watching YouTube videos, but I couldn’t help it; for some reason, it made me incredibly happy to see people, even complete strangers, sharing their unique personalities, ideas, and creations and not only being received, but well-received- sometimes, tremendously so.  Although I sometimes felt that originality was dead, that most forms of entertainment were vapid and meaningless, and that weirdness and quirkiness were something to be ashamed of, these negative thoughts were erased, or at least brushed away, whenever I watched a video. 
As well as cheering me up and renewing my hope in the artistic future of our society, these videos also inspired me.  The people I saw in them let their imaginations run wild and dared to be different.  Most importantly, through their words, actions, and creations, they were themselves.  I didn’t know the first thing about being myself; moreover, my idea of “myself” changed almost daily.  But watching these videos gave me the hope that through whatever creative pursuit I chose, I would find the identity I so desired. 
But therein lay the problem.  I had no creative pursuits, at least, none that really amounted to anything.  I wrote a little, and I sang a little, but I never wrote anything that I considered spectacular, and I didn’t write my own songs, I only covered those of other artists.  My talents were merely ordinary, and despite my attempts to cultivate them, I felt like they constantly ended up fruitless.  Despite having small talent, I didn’t know how to grow or use it in a way that I deemed productive.  I felt trapped in a void of wasted potential and lack of effort, and I didn’t know how to get out.  Maybe, I thought, I should look for the answer in my favorite source of inspiration.  What was it about my favorite video makers that made their respective talents seem to amount to something, seem to matter?  I knew the answer to the question before it even formed fully in my mind: They shared.  They posted their videos on the Internet, for anybody, for people like me, to see.  They used their gifts and talents and quirks and creations to inspire people, to make them laugh, to make them think.  What mattered to them mattered to other people as well, and that made it worthwhile.  My writing can be as relevant to me as anything else, but what causes it to have a meaning and an impact is how and how much it is shared with others.  At that moment, I made a simple vow to myself: No matter how scared I was, I would share.  I would put my work out into the world to give it a meaning and a purpose.  I would take the inspiration I had been given by those who shared before me, and I would inspire people just like me.