Hey you, Yes, you!

What the hell…. really?

Harry Hogg
3 min readMar 26, 2024
Bing Image Creator

Hey, you, the person who reads my work, doesn’t highlight, doesn’t clap, and has nothing to say. Yes, you’re the same person who stands and watches a sidewalk entertainer, sees the whole show, takes photos, then fucks off without leaving so much as a dime in the hat.

Since you’ll love reading about yourself, let me explain something to you, dumbass. It might take ten minutes to commit my words to paper, but you should know that before I commit them to paper, my whole life’s experience led to those words being there.

For Christ’s sake. Have a fucking heart, won’t you?

Forget the number of followers displayed; I’m talking to you.

You drop in and scoot out without a bye or leave. You don’t care, and you certainly won’t care after reading this, right?

But let me tell you something about writers and writing. I think I can speak for many when I say that recognition of a piece of work, a clap, a highlight, or even a little praise keeps us from putting our heads in the toilet.

I’m not proud; seriously, I’ll beg if I have to. Give me a damn task for your bloody kindly remark; I’ll get it done.

Remember, I’m a scarred individual. My grandmother was hit by a speeding ambulance. I knelt at the side of the road. The cop thought I was praying when I was thanking God for taking her.

Things like that — well, I’ve managed to come to terms with them, but not getting a little response for a lifetime’s work! Is it really too much?

Shit, it’s enough to drive a man to a bar.

So, come by any time you like, let’s commiserate together. Oh, and if all you can give me for this is a ‘fuck off’ response, my earnings go up. So, have at it. You cannot hurt me.

Harry, the safety belt light has gone on. I see you’re writing again. You’re such a romantic.

I know, Thanks, love.

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Responses (17)