22 and learning

I guess that means I’m a pimp on par
Till I’m six feet under like it’s three niggas in that Flinstones’ car
-Lupe Fiasco

It’s been a long time, I shouldn’t have left you (left you) without a dope blog to step to… maybe?

Well, it’s been well over a month since my last post and it was recently brought to my attention by one of the few people in my life who actually matter.

She asked why I hadn’t written in a while and I told her because no one reads it. She said that she does, and well, I guess that’s all that matters, right?

I’ve written before that it’s depressing and pointless being a writer with no readers, and well, nothing has changed since then. I still write, and I still want people to read, but it’s to the point where I’m not writing because no one is reading. How do you remedy this?

I feel there is only two ways to remedy the problem. Either you just stop writing altogether so you theoretically don’t have to worry about people not reading your stuff or you can continue writing until you earn your readership. The former is definitely easier than the latter because you don’t have to motivate yourself to not do something. Being lazy is natural, it comes easy to all of us. It takes a lot to put your work out and see it go unacknowledged day in and day out, but I guess that’s what comes with the territory of being in love with a medium that requires people to concentrate on something that isn’t really moving.

The thing is, if I had worked at my craft like I promised myself I would (apparently men don’t only forget promises they make to other people, but they forget the promises they make to themselves) than I would be creating images that move. That’s what, in my humble opinion, good writing does. It gives the illusion of a moving image. When I read guys like Chuck Klosterman or Bill Simmons I can see what they’re writing about, which is why they’re so well read. It may have taken me 22 years to figure this out, but I think I know what I need to be doing.

In this last month and a half I’ve written two or three articles for talkhoops.net, none of which were read by any of the three people I’m closest to outside of my immediate family. What I’ve learned is that when it comes to being supported as I continue my quest in making writing my profession, I really can’t count on anyone, not even my closest friends. I’m okay with this. I really am. I can’t force people who don’t like to read to read, and I can’t force people who do like to read to read what I write. I’m not their conjectural cup of tea (or bottle of Gatorade).

I’ve learned a few other things since the beginning of the new year:

1. 98 percent of all women I MEET (note that I’m stressing the women I meet) are stupid. So is looking for love. People in bad relationships are in that situation because they were looking for love instead of happiness. Look for someone who is going to make you happy and love will come later. I guarantee it.

2. I’m way too nice of a person. When it’s a shock when I raise my voice at someone (because in reality, I just don’t yell at people) – even after they’ve already raised their voice at me, it means you’re too nice and you need to start cussing more people out.

3. I can’t associate myself with anyone who can’t respect the fact that I love basketball more than life itself. It’s who I am, it’s what I love and it’s not changing.

4. I also can’t associate myself with people who aren’t passionate about anything. While thinking about my favorite people, most of whom I see on a daily basis, I realized that all of them are passionate about something. Of all of the people who I can’t stand, I can’t think of anything they’re passionate about. Go figure.

5. If I’m not writing, I’m not doing anything. I might as well start writing more.