Why even try? Your words obviously don’t resonate. Reach out. Go on. Stretch. Not pretty enough a setting. Ram-Stam. No time or inspiration to fix it. So just give up. Not kidding. If you’re not enjoying it. Just stop. Perhaps it is a question of style. Pay a fixer. Branding. USP. Go on. Throw money. Looks are everything. Not corporate enough. Personality required of course. Too much though. A stream of consciousness. A raw honesty, maybe they don’t get it. You. Gauche. Whimsy of the worst kind. Introspection bores them. Maybe you’re not right on enough. Maybe you’re just weird. Unoriginal. Or not original. How best to express is anyone’s guess. Not enough battle scars to reopen and share. Sensationalise then. Go on. Half the struggle being seen; the other, being heard. Screaming into the abyss. Casting that hook. Throat scratchy. Landscape parched. Shimmering horizon of hope. Echo. Echo. Echo. Plodding. Only bleached bones and cacti here. Water. Please. Water. Shield burning retinas. Walk forever and a day. Conclude. Come no closer to anything other than death. Rejection after rejection. Peers always doing better. Seem to be. No secret formula they say. Luck! Convince yourself. It’s tough love. Nothing personal. A question of right place, right time. When though. Ever? Is quality even a factor? Do they question this too? Head hurts. Retch. Answers on a postcard to Timbuktu. Days dreaming of trolls and negative feedback. A reaction. Least then. You know. Be pushing buttons. For better or worse. Raising interest. Profile. Empty retweets and mutual back scratching. Maybe the secret barometer. The key to being vacuous. Winning. Sociopaths. But we all want to be loved. Real love. Right? Or hated even a little bit. Real life. Isn’t anything less a trick. To want people to actually read you. Genuinely like your stuff. The world is fake. A blogger’s work is never done. Whoah, whoah, whoah. You’re taking this too seriously. Way to far. Torture for the soul. It’s just a journal. Hello. Funny meeting you here. Merry-go-round. Stop talking. Or start listening. You’re simply not good enough. Just give up. Go home. You’re wasting your time here. We’ve been through this. It’s busy. Home to bed now. That’s it. Off you go. Lights out. Sweet dreams. Until tomorrow, Amigo.
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