At this juncture, it is safe to say that without a good daily dosage of inner conflict, we would be... well... normal, God forbid. Without the constant check-up on our niche in this democratic caste system, we might be relatively secure. Maybe then we wouldn't need uninteresting politicians to lead the interesting lives that the truly interesting people deserve, hmmm?
Don't tell that to the struggling residential artists of the universe.
Bah. As a writer, you typically wouldn't be able to stand the thought of your insecurities boldly protruding in every word you thought, but as for me... it keeps me in check. It keeps me more deservedly human than I might seem. It is a sort of rare commodity, the ability to confront yourself. There just isn't any feeling like knowing your place in the grande scheme of things. Sometimes it is even nice to think that someday, somebody just might notice your supposed "modesty" about what you do.