I’ve put on some Allevi’s song to relax a bit. I need it desperately. Life is going on as messy as usual and I’m not done with my exams. God, I hate to read books I’m not interested in just to gain a good note. I hate to read uninteresting books, fullstop.

From now on I promise I’m going to write at least a post each week to exercise, because I’m loosing the use of my brains and hands and it eventually occurred to me that I still need them both. Writing isn’t easy. Good writing is almost impossible. There will always be someone criticizing you, and you’ll feel a shit everytime it happens. Or, even worse, nobody cares enough for what you write to actually spend five seconds of their life commenting your blog post. Lurking is bad, it should be prohibited. But then again, there are also people who don’t care enough about your writing to say what they really think about it, and just say “hey, it’s good”. Thank you so much master of obvious, if I didn’t think it was good why in the world would I share it with you? To have you mocking at me for the rest of my life? But you should know that good is never enough for a writer. And maybe I wanted to know what you think about it. Provided you can think at all.

Anyway, if there’s one thing I learnt in my six years of amateurish blogging and novel writing is that if you want to attract visitors to your page you should speak of politics. Especially if you’re going to tell awful (and possibly real) things about Berlusconi. That always works. All of a sudden you realize that your lonely four-visitors blog has in fact houndreds of visitors all voting for him. And you’ll never want to write about him for the rest of your life. It works even better than actual censorship. He should pay them, really. Oh wait, maybe he does.

And… enough. I’m done ranting. This post is too long already and I’m not even going to translate it in Italian. I’m too lazy. This rant was meant to explain why I like writing, but in the end I think it shows why I hate it and it may be the truth. I hate writing. It makes me feel unconfortable, inadequate, useless. But still it’s the only thing that keeps me going.

Se l'articolo ti sembra interessante puoi ritwittarlo o condividerlo su Facebook...