Where For Art Thou?

So where am I?

I'm whiling away the hours at a different forum, writing endlessly, mostly crap, but doing my best to help people when I can.

I tried to do that here, but with a readership of three, I reach far more people over there, with a readership approaching ... well, lots and lots. And quite a few of them actually pay attention to what I'm saying, which is sad, really, isn't it? Poor bastards.

It's all about what one's focus is, I guess. It should have been about getting it out, and what it became was numbers, numbers, numbers, and I know that's wrong.

My life is about competition. More readers there, more people asking for my help, more people commenting. It feeds me.

What's stupid is that I get more out of writing in THIS arena than I do that one, because I write what's happening with me. The wild freneticism of daily life within my mind comes out here; and I need that. But it didn't feel as if I was going anywhere because I wasn't picking up any readers. This is nuts. But then ... so am I.

There are times when the reality of my own idiocy makes me want to simply stand next to a solid wood door and bang it til I stop feeling anything. How can you quit doing what's GOOD for you because you're COMPETING with yourself for numbers?

Let me tell you, the past few weeks have been hell on earth. Oh wait, isn't it always? Seriously, the one thing that never changes for me is that drama remains part of my life. I'll try to write on that in upcoming days.

For now, I guess I'm back. Sort of.