The success of my last post took me by surprise. For the first time in the eight months since I opened this blog, something actually happened. People’s reaction to that post was almost unreal. I keep looking at the measurements from Google analytics of the last few days again and again, just to make sure that I’m not dreaming. Who would imagine that such a personal thought could speak to so many people?
30,000 people. This post has reached 30,000 people on Facebook. They might not even have opened it. They could have just scrolled it down their Facebook wall. But they noticed it somehow. In a glance. It might not sound like a big deal to you, but the thought of 30,000 people being exposed to something I wrote, even for less than a second, is just fucking crazy.
I’ve been meaning to sit down and write another part of my insane adventure to India, which is the reason I opened this blog in the first place, but the events of the last few days totally shook me off balance. With all of this excitement – let’s call it my two and a half minutes of fame – came also a shred of hope that I can reach the goal I’ve been dreaming about over the last few years: A life outside the endless rat race. And with that shred of hope came an enormous amount of pressure to ‘deliver the goods’ once more. And by ‘deliver the goods,’ I mean to write, yet again, a post that will sweep you folks off your feet and give you a mind-blowing written orgasm.
So how am I doing so far? Failing miserably? Well, that figures…
All this pressure to sit down and write has made me reflect on all of the successful bloggers out there who just keep coming with one great post after another almost every day! Who the hell are those people?! How do they have so much time to write? And how do they get their asses to sit down and let them work?
If there is another thing I’m failing at miserably, it’s telling my ass what to do. It’s like it has a life of its own. Every time I want to sit down and write, my ass goes: ‘I’m feeling sleepy...Let’s go outside and take a walk.’
NOTE: This ass of a paragraph was written without any intentional sexual innuendoes, but if you had any in mind while reading it, than you need to take your ass outside and give it the ‘Game of Thrones’ walk of shame. (Shame, shame, shame…) And then have a mind blowing orgasm from this post and love me forever.
In case none of that would happen, let’s play a little game that will allow me to prolong my fake two and a half minutes of fame. I’ve noticed that even if a lot of people read a post and actually find it interesting, funny, or touching (this I know by the sheer number of messages I have received on Facebook in the last few days), only a few brave ones will actually write a comment on the blog post itself. I know, I also hate to write comments on other people's blogs, it so obligating…
But I’ve been having so much fun watching google analytics go wild and showing me, in real-time, all the visits on my blog from different countries simultaneously: United Kingdom, United States, Germany, Thailand, India, France, Israel, Morocco, Czech Republic, Canada, Australia, and so many others. How freaky is that?!
So let’s play a game in which you write in the comments below your name/middle name/nickname/fake name/whatever you want, and the country you’re from. Come on! What do you care? Just write it down and let my ego thrive for another week.