I Am Fucking Pathetic

Why am I fucking pathetic? Is it because I finish nothing that I start? Sure, that’s part of it. Is it because every time I lose ten pounds I gain back fifteen? Yes, I suppose. Is it because I can’t seem to hold a fucking job? Well, that would seem to be the case. Is it because my entire life has been a steady cycle of unfulfilled expectations and self-loathing? Pretty much.

But right now, in this context, it’s mostly because I haven’t written a blog post in over four months. Four…fucking…months.

But it’s really even worse than that. I mean, it’s not like a four-month hiatus isn’t bad enough, but about the time I abandoned my poor little blog I had actually had some brief underground success. There was a week or so where I got picked up by stumbleupon and reddit, and they led to thousands of hits a day, almost entirely to one piece I wrote three years ago. At last, it was recognition. Maybe it was even confirmation that yes, I really could create something other people liked. Unfortunately, it was also confirmation that about half of all people are fucking idiots, but I’d suspected this for a long time anyway.

And while most hits came to that one page, there was some bleed-over. A few people went on to read other posts, and more than a handful linked to me. I showed up in some blogrolls. It was a hell of a time to suddenly not have anything to say. If I could have just posted a thing or two a week, I probably could have built up a decent readership. Maybe I could even have gotten enough recognition that somebody would pay me to write moderately witty diatribes against life in general. But who am I kidding, I’d have fucked that up too.

Yeah, so I guess I’m not in a very good place right now, but at least I wrote something.