.
I'm livid.
I really am. I'm pissed off and confused and all of the above. I spend hundreds... NO, THOU- SANDS of hours making a single, award winning post for my readers and what do I get out of it? MORE READERS! Not that I don't like more readers, but OTHER bloggers are making a killing in the blogosphere. They are living high on the hog by writing about mundane things. Oh, you think I'm bullshitting you? Just recently I read through a New York Times article about an ex-mormon housewife in Utah named Heather Armstrong...the Queen of the Mommy bloggers.
Mommy bloggers. I never knew there was such a thing. I never even knew that such a thing was interesting to people. She talks about home appliances, taking care of children, her husband, her pets, her treatment for depression, blah, blah, blah. Wow! I thought my life was not interesting and that I was boring my readers. Not that I'm in envy of Ms. Armstrong, but I'M IN ENVY OF MS. ARMSTRONG!!!
She is the only blogger on the lastest Forbes list of the 'Most Influential Women in Media', coming in at number 26. Okay, now that may be 25 slots behind Oprah, but that one slot behind Tina Brown! Further, her site brings in $30,000 to $50,000 a month or more in income, which she won't even confirm to reporters. The agency that sells ads for her site, Federated Media says of her that she is "...one of our most successful bloggers," and that "...our most successful bloggers can gross $1 million." What the fuck? How in the fuck do I become a successful blogger? How do you do that shit?
Ms. Armstrong has 100,000 visitors a day to her site. Okay. I just cleared my 100,000 unique visitor mark just a few days ago, but I do top over 50,000 visitors a month here. Well, I guess that's just a fucking drop in the bucket when it comes to being a real blogger. So what can I say? I'm a small fry in a big ocean. But I don't need millions of dollars. Just a few thousand will do. But then again....thinking about it, how will that shit mess up my mystique of being a homeless, destitute blogger? I'm broke, busted and disgusted, just dragging my ass along the Earth, living on fumes for cash. If I start making scads of money how will that affect my blog, or me?
If I could become like Ms. Armstrong, or any of those other 'successful bloggers' what would be the outcome of my life when I land a few book deals and move into a real apartment with a kitchen and a bathroom? When crazy people are no longer my neighbors? When I'm feeling better and don't have to live on anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, anti-delusional and bi-polar medications? What happens to the old hobo then when he is no longer a hobo? Will I spend thousands of hours on a single blog post, like this one, going over each and every word for its impact, it's special slant so that it can win a hobo-award and be accepted as authentic by the readers that I do have?
I'm going straight to Hell now, what would things look like if the trip was cut short? If it was reversed? If I found the woman of my dreams, the job of my dreams, the blog of my dreams, the dreams of my dreams? Well, I know you must think I'm lost in all of these questions, but frankly, I'm not. I'll never be a Ms. Armstrong. I'll never turn a dime for this blog, largely because I don't want to. And largely because if all my dreams were to come true I know exactly what would happen to me.
I'd wake up. I'd pop up out of my bed, in my SRO and look around at the same drab four walls that bring me so much comfort. Then turn to stare at my beaten and battered laptop of several years, climb behind the keyboard and log onto this blog and bitch and moan. Then I'll watch some fucked up show on television, something really stupid and curl up in the center of my bed and close my eyes, dreaming once again of being a successful blogger and going on with this life that I have been destined to live.
That's just the way things go.
HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/holding-onto-my-thought-processes.html
Visit extra vagance de plumes for Daily Updated Hairstyles Collection
I'm livid.
I really am. I'm pissed off and confused and all of the above. I spend hundreds... NO, THOU- SANDS of hours making a single, award winning post for my readers and what do I get out of it? MORE READERS! Not that I don't like more readers, but OTHER bloggers are making a killing in the blogosphere. They are living high on the hog by writing about mundane things. Oh, you think I'm bullshitting you? Just recently I read through a New York Times article about an ex-mormon housewife in Utah named Heather Armstrong...the Queen of the Mommy bloggers.
Mommy bloggers. I never knew there was such a thing. I never even knew that such a thing was interesting to people. She talks about home appliances, taking care of children, her husband, her pets, her treatment for depression, blah, blah, blah. Wow! I thought my life was not interesting and that I was boring my readers. Not that I'm in envy of Ms. Armstrong, but I'M IN ENVY OF MS. ARMSTRONG!!!
She is the only blogger on the lastest Forbes list of the 'Most Influential Women in Media', coming in at number 26. Okay, now that may be 25 slots behind Oprah, but that one slot behind Tina Brown! Further, her site brings in $30,000 to $50,000 a month or more in income, which she won't even confirm to reporters. The agency that sells ads for her site, Federated Media says of her that she is "...one of our most successful bloggers," and that "...our most successful bloggers can gross $1 million." What the fuck? How in the fuck do I become a successful blogger? How do you do that shit?
Ms. Armstrong has 100,000 visitors a day to her site. Okay. I just cleared my 100,000 unique visitor mark just a few days ago, but I do top over 50,000 visitors a month here. Well, I guess that's just a fucking drop in the bucket when it comes to being a real blogger. So what can I say? I'm a small fry in a big ocean. But I don't need millions of dollars. Just a few thousand will do. But then again....thinking about it, how will that shit mess up my mystique of being a homeless, destitute blogger? I'm broke, busted and disgusted, just dragging my ass along the Earth, living on fumes for cash. If I start making scads of money how will that affect my blog, or me?
If I could become like Ms. Armstrong, or any of those other 'successful bloggers' what would be the outcome of my life when I land a few book deals and move into a real apartment with a kitchen and a bathroom? When crazy people are no longer my neighbors? When I'm feeling better and don't have to live on anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, anti-delusional and bi-polar medications? What happens to the old hobo then when he is no longer a hobo? Will I spend thousands of hours on a single blog post, like this one, going over each and every word for its impact, it's special slant so that it can win a hobo-award and be accepted as authentic by the readers that I do have?
I'm going straight to Hell now, what would things look like if the trip was cut short? If it was reversed? If I found the woman of my dreams, the job of my dreams, the blog of my dreams, the dreams of my dreams? Well, I know you must think I'm lost in all of these questions, but frankly, I'm not. I'll never be a Ms. Armstrong. I'll never turn a dime for this blog, largely because I don't want to. And largely because if all my dreams were to come true I know exactly what would happen to me.
I'd wake up. I'd pop up out of my bed, in my SRO and look around at the same drab four walls that bring me so much comfort. Then turn to stare at my beaten and battered laptop of several years, climb behind the keyboard and log onto this blog and bitch and moan. Then I'll watch some fucked up show on television, something really stupid and curl up in the center of my bed and close my eyes, dreaming once again of being a successful blogger and going on with this life that I have been destined to live.
That's just the way things go.
HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/holding-onto-my-thought-processes.html
Visit extra vagance de plumes for Daily Updated Hairstyles Collection
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