I know now that my posts, for one reason or another, are not the sort to attract hundreds of readers. I thought that would bother me, or at the very least set me to making alterations in order to attract more of the internet’s population. Strangely it doesn’t. I don’t mind because I’m simply writing and posting for me. I am happy with and interested in what I upload; why does it matter if not a lot of other people are?
But. Yes I know, it can never be quite that simple. Because to be honest, if I didn’t want anybody to read them I’d type my thoughts into a folder named ‘diary’ on my computer, rather than a WordPress blog.
Why though, if I don’t want sponsorships or tonnes of people posting the same generic comments on my posts day after day because I am overloaded with followers, why do I feel a little need to find out what I’m missing when a post only gets two views?
I suppose it’s because I know I could do better. Like everyone probably does, secretly in their minds, thinking ‘oh I’m different to everyone else, I’m individual; I have something to offer the world!’ Which is partly true and partly sad.
Beneath it all I just want people to listen. I want to make you understand, want to make a difference. I sound like any other blogging teen who sees her little page of this vast world as more than it really is but honestly I mean it. The only people who understand even a little of disabilities and what it’s like to live with them -other than disabled people themselves- are the close friends and family who know us, who have empathy and want to hear our voices.
All this time (in the past few days I had a notification informing me that I have held this web address for 1 year) I have been shouting at the internet, typing fiercely about all the things I need you to understand. I doubt I have made a difference, only a positive one to myself. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve learned a lot and it has been worth it without a doubt but I made a mistake. You can not simply direct a torrent of words towards someone who choses to turn away, headphones on, walking further and further until you’re just a vague idea, a hazy memory. I don’t want to shout over your headphones anymore. I can’t tell you if you don’t want to listen. So this is me at the end of trying to force you to ‘get it’ and at the beginning of persuading you to care.