Read Me

I don't know what I'm going to talk about today, so here goes. I just feel like I need to talk. Sure, that's what diaries are for, but sometimes we want people to read them. We want someone to see what we're thinking. We want to share those thoughts that plague us, those theories we come up with, and those jokes we create. Sometimes just writing it down can be helpful, but we need someone else to see it. We need confirmation that we're good enough. And I know we aren't supposed to, I know we're supposed to always believe in ourselves and be confident, but anyone who actually believes that is probably kidding themselves. We can get pretty close, but we aren't going to get anywhere in life if we actually don't care what people think of us. We need the boss of that company to like us, the director of that play, the admissions officer, the teacher, the list goes on and on. So yes, sometimes we need to do things for other people, not just for ourselves. It's okay to look good for a guy, as long as it's not just the one guy and when he gets a girlfriend you start dressing badly. You can want to look nice/be nice/do whatever for other people, just don't solely rely on them for it. Does that make any sense? I hope so.
But what I'm really talking about is writing. I write a lot. Fiction, mostly, but also this, of course. I want people to read my book and tell me that it's great, but exactly three people have read the entire thing. My parents and the publisher that turned it down. You know how that makes me feel? That no one cares enough to finish it? Not very good. And I know, no one cares about other people, but we need verification from others, we just do. I'm only human. And it makes my day when someone tells me they read my blog, because I like that people enjoy the things that I think about. I usually keep my thoughts to myself, only telling them to a select few people(period three). This way I can share them with the people who care enough to read them, and it's nice when those people identify themselves.
So I guess I've ended up talking about wanting people to like me. That's pretty sad, but it's natural. And it's not me, really, go ahead and hate me, but I want people to like my words. My words are everything to me. Especially my book. It's everything. And I love it more than anything else(family excluded). And so it's pretty hard when people offer to read it and then they stop after a chapter or two. Yes, I know it's long, that's why it's called a book.
Man, this whole post sounds very whiny. Oh, well. It's just to say that we all need confirmation sometimes, so if you're in the position to give it to someone, don't hold back.

"He flips the notebook open at random. Scans the page until he stops. He finally looks up, his eyes sharper, brighter, a more beautiful shade of green than they've ever been and my heart is beating so fast I can't even feel it anymore.
And he begins to read."-Unravel Me by Tahereh Mafi