The Crazy snake guy

You know you are gonna die alone in the basement of your house at a pretty old age (and then nobody will notice your dead) when you start seeing only two comments waiting to be published on your new post after you login to your blogger dashboard after a week.

Lets just for a while, screw that I don't care policy and seriously think of how a person gets used to seeing 8-12 comments waiting to be published the very next day of writing a new story. How your world has gone from being ignored without purpose, to being ignored on purpose, out of jealousy that he is now the all la-di-da writer in our midst. What can he write that I can't. And you can sense that vibe of well confined appreciation. You know you have secretly motivated bloggers here, there and everywhere. You get one hundred unique hits a day. Forty percent of those bookmarked visits coming from outside your country. You are finally, really the king of your world.


And then, life happens. It doesn't wait around for you to wonder if you have a choice between being a mostly-secretly appreciated writer but not good enough to so much as buy your own pen and going with the flow. Anyway, there is no choice. You can go with the flow and hope that both can be juggled, or just wait for another miracle. And then you start wondering if you are making it all a big deal? It was good while it lasted, and eventually you will run out of things to say. Nobody will realise your aren't there. Remember, only dead things go with the flow, and so did I. I had never cared and will never.

But you just know, that every time you see only two comments (From nice people because..well they are nice and has nothing to do with my blog) waiting not so eagerly for my approval, that you are dying alone after maybe spending the last twenty years rearing cats or lizards or some other strange animal you hate right now and doesn't give a crap about your blog, so that you can scare little children with it. When that happens, please give away my pets to the zoo.

All of a sudden, things change. You see a new follower. You have no idea why you care, but you are now not so sure about the you-are-dying-alone theory. I will probably die with that guy? Eww I certainly hope not. Will look like a gay couple committed suicide because they were ashamed to come clean (No pun intended) about their relationship. And if it is a girl, its like getting two followers at once. So with that new follower, life is all rosy. Rosier than the cheapest Golconda wine stain. So you immediately get on and start typing that story you were thinking about in the bus, until you realise, that the new follower is not aware of the commenting "facilities" either. So its back to watching the hit meter get just 2 unique hits on a lucky day. (Isn't it ironical that I am talking about YOU, yes YOU my dear reader and just one other person.)

You type out a joke about the facts of your life and the only comment you get is like "Oh that was bad", I almost pull my scalp out while tugging at my hair shouting "IT DID NOT REALLY HAPPEN, ITS A JOKE" but you realise, they can't hear you. And there is no way to make my point any more either.

Seriously, make sure you give away my pets to the zoo (they probably won't bite).