Tuesday, May 8, 2012

I'm worried

I'm worried that I ran out of things to say a long time ago, and that I've been faking it ever since and gotten by because I read a lot and people aren't too good at spotting plagiarism when it comes to them with a smile and a shake of the head.
I'm worried that I don't care enough about God, about others, or about the world to really care about myself, and that when people discover how very little I car they'll stone me or tell me, "Get lost!" because studies in non-verbal communication reveal that people are awfully good at picking up on fakery, and if they don't feel cared for genuinely, they are genuinely alienated.
I'm worried that I'll pick up where I left of instead of starting out where I am now, miles ahead of that place, and that this will become some sort of cathartic confession again where I complain about how bad I am at writing and hope that the three people reading this will tell me, "Oh, stop, you're really good at writing." Because hearing that helps my egotism without helping me.
I'm worried that nobody will read this, and that this will become another introspective dead-end that dies for want of human connection, and that like all of the half filled notebooks and half finished song lyrics and poems this will fizzle out because words don't come to me out of nowhere, they come to me out of connection to others.

I'll have a summer job that gives me one day off every week.
One post a week, promise.
And no bullshit.


  1. Well, I'm interested in listening.

  2. ^ Me too, Micah.
    People (I) don't just care about you because you're smart or are interesting enough. We (I) love you.