– What If Nobody Cared? –

What if nobody cared?

What if everything you wrote about, felt strongly about, poured your heart and emotions into was all for naught?

What if the only one who really cared ……was you!

As a self-proclaimed writer, that feeling has wafted over me now and again. It feels like no one is listening and, in essence, that’s like talking to an empty auditorium. All the seats are there except no one is sitting in them. There’s an audible echo from the vast emptiness before you which makes your words sound hollow even to you.

To be ignored is something that is hard to adjust to. It’s hard to keep your focus and be productive (or think you’re being productive) when you think no one is listening or paying attention in general.

The mind needs to be fed, replenished, if-you-will, as it expends thoughts like you must feed your body as you expend energy. The mind needs to be fed through feed-back. Verbal discourse and an exchange of ideas to replace those all ready expended and act as fuel for the next batch of ideas to come forth.

The scariest feeling in the world is that of being alone. Of hearing nothing except your own breathing. Hearing nothing but your own thoughts, your own voice. It’s the free exchange of ideas and thoughts, in general, that help to keep us sane and balanced. Thinking that no one cares about anything you have to say regardless whether it’s an editorial you feel strongly about, an article you felt compelled to write, a part of your life you want to share or a story of fiction that just popped into your consciousness that needed a place to live. Someone needs to care about it. Someone other than just the writer.

I guess it should be enough just to have the ability to put down in print that which you feel and care about. To go back, as I do, and re-read that which I have written. Sometimes I’m amazed that I could have taken the position I did on certain subjects. I won’t change that position, I’m just amazed, that’s all. Sometimes the anger I reveal disturbs me but then I realized that it was just momentary. That “This too shall pass.”

I guess I should be satisfied with being able, no, with being given the outlet for these random thoughts, these opinions, however wrong or right, these stories to be published on the internet so that people, other than myself, may choose to read or disregard my thoughts, ideas and stories. But, I’m not. I want more. I want to know somebody cares. I need to know that someone is listening. Someone other than me.

Those are MY thoughts and I give them to you.

Thank-you and have a great day!

Ed B.


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