When you find out that even one person reads your blog, you will start writing absolute rubbish. And that’s not a vodka ad.
After long periods of binging and round-about deliberation I have stumbled upon the solution: stop writing.
If writing is for you, it will make its way back to your loving, and over-protective, arms that suffocate the creativity out and wring out any sense left in your ego-centric posts. Otherwise, you’ll be writing blogs about your new girlfriend (the third one this month), popular fad-theories (are gay people born that way), how you intend to quit your job (as if you can afford to pay the electricity bill that keeps the laptop you use to post mundane things on your meagre wishful-salary), and your latest travels (how you planned over 4 months for a 3 day trip into the uninsured part of town). Wow.
It gets worse.
You start posting essays worth of pompous first-class garbage to some anonymous okey’s comment. You feel inclined to explain yourself, so that “your readers” can “get” you. And then you become one of “those” people who never miss a chance to put quotes on random words to make emphasis and in the hopeless attempt to seem slightly intelligent and wildly interesting.
It’s really that bad.
All because you wanted the real you to be known and understood by the three people that faultlessly revisit your blogs for a sign of sanity – only to be met with more of your nonsense.
Writing is an art, not a science. You can juxtapose a noun next to a punctuation mark and sprinkle verbs and adjectives all over to make it look pretty, but as one oke might say; garbage by any other name smells just the same.
Namaste
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