Writing is one of the few things I still enjoy doing.
If I'm awful at it, I apologize, but it gives some indication into how well I do other activities in my life. I have never particularly enjoyed reading other peoples work, either. It often makes me want to give up on life all together.
It's not just the random people I met in college and their grandiose way of writing, but the big names too. I have maybe, three writers I actually enjoy reading on a regular basis. So where does this odd fondness of the written word come from? I have no idea, but I'm going to indulge it for as long as possible, because it is the only thing I have left.
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