Sometimes I get despondent and feel that I should be more productive with my life. I never thought in those terms when I lived in Venezuela. There you are supposed to survive first (no easy task, let me tell you) and then eat, party, go to the beach or protest against the government… or protest against people who protest against the government.
But here, it seems life is measured in achievements.
And when I contemplate my life in those terms, it falls short. More than short: like really, really short.
Even if I put all the books I've read in one huge pile.
Most of my friends write at least one lovely pretentious blog where they explore deep and intellectual stuff (and contribute to another dozen), they then tweet about what they wrote and rehash it once more on the dozen profile pages they manage. And, of course, they take classes like “How to become a brand.”
For them, "followers" and "likes" are the measurement for achievement.
I have none (OK: 2, but they're good friends and follow me out of pity.)
Worst.
I want none. What is wrong with me?
"You are 19” Uncle M tells me. Yes. I agree. I’m 19. But so is everyone else… and look at them!
Now that I found your RSS thing, I'm also following you, so consider that THREE followers.
ReplyDeleteThough I am doing it out of pity ... ;-P
hehehehe, pity is very much appreciated ;-)
ReplyDelete