Falling Off

When I first began writing this blog I would have a few people like a blog that I wrote. Occasionally I would get a comment or two. My following, although slow was growing and I at least felt as is if someone was reading the shit I would write. That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. I haven’t had someone like a blog is a while, months. I haven’t had anybody comment on anything, haven’t gotten a new follower and to be honest, I’m not even sure if anybody is reading this shit. In fact I’m almost positive that nobody is reading this shit. It’s basically a glorified journal. I don’t need to pay money for a domain name just to write in a journal. I started this dumb ass shit because I Googled how to become a writer and this was the first thing they recommend, that everything I read about becoming a writer recommend. Every article I read said start a blog and find a niche. Well a year after starting this blog I am no closer to being a writer then I was a year ago, the blog, after starting out ok isn’t growing at all anymore. No likes, no new followers, no comments and I’m pretty sure nobody is reading shit. I have no niche, shit I don’t even know exactly what a niche is. There is no niche for what I like to write. This shit isn’t helping me at all, not in my goal to become a writer, and not with my confidence in my writing. I have no idea how to market my writing, no idea how to get my name or my writing out there. No idea how to grow my blog and further my dreams of becoming a writer. For years now everyone has been telling me that I’m a writer and the pessimist in me has argued against it. I’m not a fucking writer I just have a way of talking that people find interesting. My dreams of writing are just that, dreams. I’d be better off just tossing this whole fucking joke and investing my time in something that is actually going to benefit me and be worth my time, or at least isn’t going to leave me feeling unimportant and retarded. Start a blog they said. Why? For what? Find a niche they said. What if there is no niche for me? Like everything in my life, I just don’t fit. Just an outcast. And apparently everyone all my life has been right about me. I’m just a fuck up. Born to lose. Destined to die cold and alone, oh and apparently poor because any hopes of becoming a writer get more and more bleak with every word I write. I’d be better off just writing in a journal because at least with that shit I don’t get my feelings hurt when I get rejected.