My walk in Crystal Palace Park was very pleasant. It didn’t quite have the effect on me that I was hoping for. Fresh air, exercise, blowing a few cobwebs away – it was supposed to leave me feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, however it actually left me feeling pretty low. The problem with solitude, is that it leaves you too much time to think, too much time for introspection. Introspection is a great thing, but I think perhaps like so many other things in life, too much of it can be a bad thing. I find myself slipping into a trance-like gloom and simple solitude slowly mutates into a feeling of isolation and discontent. Nothing quite felt ‘right’ as I walked around the park – I felt more like a spectator of life rather than a participant. My mind became numb for want of a better word, that familiar (though thankfully not regular) feeling of depression setting in.
Why now? I’m taking positive steps to try and improve my things, yet I feel really crap. I’m hoping this is just a minor blip. I think perhaps now this blog is underway, I am slowly realising that actually, nobody will ever read it. Nobody is interested in the ramblings of a boring recluse and why on earth should they be? I think my fatal mistake was to watch Julie & Julia recently – a great film about a blogger who somehow managed to attract thousands of readers during her year long mission to cook every recipe from a famous cook book. A nice feel-good film and a true story apparently. Her success was probably down to the fact that she had set herself a time limit to complete a very specific task, and this kind of ‘race against time’ is, I suppose, far more interesting.
So, I must pull myself together and carry on with my own little project and try not get disheartened or upset because nobody is reading my blog. It’s a harsh lesson in life the day you finally realise, that other than your parents and perhaps your siblings, nobody actually gives a shit about your life. Nobody cares what you do, what you think, what you wear, if you’re having a bad hair day, if you’re ugly, which car you drive, what your job is, where you go on holiday, what music you listen to, if you play the guitar or can sing, how big your flat/house is, or indeed, how you feel. Nobody gives a shit. So all these things that seem to matter so much, really actually just don’t. Ok friends slightly complicate this theory, but everyone else in the world… doesn’t give a shit. You would have thought I’d be used to it by now having spent years recording music that nobody is interested in (more about that another time…) I just need to get through today and start afresh tomorrow and keep my chin up. So stay tuned for the next exciting installment… my imaginary readers.