How Sad It Is

When you're checking your blogger stats, and looking at your page views, saying to yourself, "Oh well, at least ONE PERSON is reading my blog!...
... and then you realize that that one person is yourself.

I'm not trying to throw myself a pity party here, but

Lies.

Yes I am.  I would love nothing more than for someone to leave a comment saying "Poor Claire!  I read your blog!  I've just been using a secret computer that doesn't trigger your page views!" just to make me feel better about myself, even though it would be a lie.
                                        bitchbitchmoanmoan
I'm sure this is a fantastically productive way to get people to read my blog.
How silly I was, with my three lovely followers, to want more.  I said to myself, "Oh look, three of my lovely friends are following my blog.  Well that's nice, but it would be great if more people would come read the words that I am (not) writing."  I take it back.  I take it all back.  Come back, my three lovely followers!  Even just one?  It's ironic, as I started this whole thing off by saying that I didn't care whether anyone read this or not, and that I just wanted to improve my writing

Lies.

I want what I've always wanted.  Attention.  People telling me that things I do are worthwhile.  That sounds so pathetic--I know that I'm making a valuable contribution to things and people around me.  People even tell me that they appreciate things I do--really, they do!  So why am I still craving acknowledgement?

The point is, I can't fool anyone, not even myself.  As much as I like to set myself up on a lofty pedestal in my head, I'm no less vain than anyone else out there, and probably considerably more so than some.  And it makes me feel pathetic, and then I end up whining about it on my blog, and then I just spiral downwards into a viscous self-pity/hate thingamadoohicky.  And then I expect people to feel sorry for me?
Aha. Ahahahahaha.
That was the sound of my laughter, in case you couldn't tell.

Although, I suppose that if no one is reading this, then it doesn't really matter what I write

Lies.

It does matter, because if I let myself give in to this, then I'm not being as strong as I should be could be am.  I don't need to whine.  It's not getting me anywhere.  I owe myself better than this.

Wow, I think I just talked myself out of being depressed and mopey.  Yay!!! Rainbows and unicorns!


But I still want people to read my blog.


I'm listening to: Darren Criss (in all of his gloriousness) singing "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane.  This made me cry, it's so beautiful.  CANNOT WAIT FOR THE RELEASE OF THAT WARBLER'S ALBUM.
I'm reading: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke

I don't know if anyone's actually reading this anymore

And it's okay if no one is--really--but if you are, what do you think about me shifting this into a costuming/sewing blog?  I have a lot of cool projects in the works, so if you'd be interested in hearing about them and seeing pictures, give a shout-out in the comments.  Of course, you should also let me know  if you think I'm hilarious and need to keep posting stuff like my older posts... but I seriously doubt that that's the case for anyone.  Either way, I want your opinions!