I'll Just Write Here By Myself.

The fact that very few people read my blog does not bother me at all. I am forty-one years old; I watched Mary Tyler Moore before Nick at Nite was born. I don't mind looking at the statistics that show me that 3 people looked at my blog. It's like being the second-to-last kid picked for the volleyball game. Okay, it was last. But it was a quirk - I had friends, just not friends on that particular team, and I had never played before. I like being oblivious to the opinions of others. It's like receiving rejections in the mail. When I get one, I tell myself "Lucy, this proves that you are confident. Who cares what some snotty literary magazine thinks of your story?" Then I walk around wondering why I didn't get an MFA in Creative Writing after college.

The blog thing is really just a hobby and if people read it, that's cool. If people don't read it, that's okay, too. If a blog takes up space on the web and no one reads it, is it still a piece of writing? My philosophical side says yes, of course. I wouldn't want too many readers anyway because that would be such a fucking awful hassle to think that I might have to respond to them. Or check their blogs all the time - yikes. Then I would have to notice the many very active intelligent bloggers out there. (A friend told me about them.) How could I possibly do that? It would be so draining to have an ongoing correspondence with persons who enjoy my writing. So I'll continue to type into my robot/computer because it doesn't matter to me at all if you read this. Or this. In fact, I am not even awake right now. I am sleepwriting. See you in my dreams, or maybe not.