The truth is that no one is reading this. Maybe they will one day, but not right now. Why don’t I think about this more when I write? I love the romantic idea of Marcus Aurelius writing a journal for himself, never suspecting anyone to read it let alone build up a philosophy around it. Did I just compare myself to Marcus Aurelius… no I didn’t. Well maybe in that I don’t expect anyone to read this.

So often I get in my own way thinking that my legions of Twitter fans (1,203) of them, and that my friends at work (they don’t know this exists) will follow this and make me reflect on everything that I write. The truth is no one is reading.

This is liberating and not sad at all, in fact, when people start to read everything will change.