I’m hunting for a response.
If you are reading this, thank you. If you are not reading this, I will never know and this realization is a challenge.
I write everyday for myself and I guess it should not matter to me whether or not someone is reading this, but it does. Sometimes I feel like I cooked an entire meal and no one has come to dinner.
This is the insecurity of the writer in me manifesting itself like the pangs of jealousy or the twinge of envy that seem to invade our lives when we are at our most weak. As writers, if we are being true to our craft, we expose pieces of ourselves and look not for acceptance but rather for reaction. I like it when you like what I write but I mostly prefer when you are moved to give me a comment, positive or negative, it does not matter.
But silence is hard to take. It is defeating and vicious in its attack of my psyche and makes me question the value of my words and their impact, if any, on you. Your ability to ignore my work brings out my inner Alex Forrester. As I channel the portrayal of her by Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, I hear myself saying, ‘I will not be ignored, Dan!’. I eerily scare myself when I go to these often visited dark places.
As I embark on this self-evaluation phase of my life where I use language to hone in on my daily observations and create pages for you to leaf through the layers of my existence, I need to know that my words are not lost in the echo of this virtual ether. Are you there?
If you are reading this, thank you. If you are not reading this, then please let me know by sending me a comment either through WordPress or Facebook. Don’t leave me hanging, waiting ever so patiently for the one day when you will apportion me a crumb of reaction for my daily bits of life, sentimentality and yes, craziness.
But mostly, don’t ignore me because instead of reactions I will begin hunting for rabbits. That would simply make me become but a caricature of myself. Worse yet, that would make me Elmer Fudd.