I’m getting really good at typing shit on my phone. It is an ideal writing method because I can write anywhere and, unlike with a laptop, I can hold the phone so that people can’t read what I’m writing.
I want everyone to read what I’ve written, but unlike Sal Paradise, I don’t want anyone to watch what I’m writing.
I can’t write when people might be watching because I always play to the audience. Any audience will do. I change everything from my voice and cadence to my opinions. Why? The simplest answer may be true, and that answer is that I’m seeking approval all the time. There may be a deeper answer.
But let’s not delve at this time.
People say that everyone is basically the same, that we focus on what makes us different from one another, but the sum of those differences is very minute compared to what makes us the same.
I like to think that I am special, even if it means that what makes me special is that I am the biggest attention whore the world has ever seen. The difference between me and Kim Kardashian is motivation, body measurements, and pretty much a lot of things but if I wasn’t lazy and was smarter and beautiful I would do what Kim Kardashian is doing. I want everyone to look at me all the time.
Well, except when I’m writing.
I forget how old are you dude? I’m 29 and I want approval just as much as when I was 2. Not a fan of how life is shaking out TBH.
I’m 30, same. I think the approval thing has been and continues to be one of the biggest factors in my dissatisfaction with life. How to beat it? I’m using alcohol for the short term and betting on meditation for the long.
I’m with you on the boozing — then graduated to party drugs but I know that shit is unsustainable. Dreading the at-first-boring-but-then-probably-vaguely-satisfying transition to meditation or being selfless or something that I’ll have to ride out for the last 40 years of my life.
Hey but after that forty year slump don’t forget the last hurrah where you can finally do as much heroine as you always wanted. That keeps me going.
Don’t hate the player, hate the (Wall $treet) game xoxo
Also, fuck people who watch me write and can see what I’m writing. When this happens I start writing about the person who is spying on my writing and what happened to the last fool who perved on my private musings: they soon stop looking.
Haha that’s perfect. Most of the time the person watching me write is my wife so it becomes complicated.
I though the difference was the tits, or have you got them nailed?
I don’t want to say anything that would make me easier to identify