He knelt down next to me and said, "I want to know what's on your mind."

"You must be crazy," I said.

"But I still want to read the next thing that you'll write."

I paused and then said, "Sometimes I think I shouldn't write anymore."

"Why?"

"Because it's all just in my head. My pen has the power to create imaginary worlds and imaginary stories and characters just like you, but it's all in my head."

"I still want to read it," he said. "Because even if it sounds crazy, your writing is a reflection of whatever's on your mind."

"But my mind is chaotic. It's a complete mess, and you wouldn't want to see it."

"I still want to see it."

"Why would you want to see all the chaos of my mind?" 

He looked at me seriously. "Because you have a beautiful mind."