The unnoticed/ignored artist

Sometimes I wonder why I continue writing after so many disappointments. It's not that my writing is really bad, I enjoy writing. But let me tell you about one experience:

One of my poems had won a poetry contest and of course I was really happy about it. I had not expected it at all, esp. not to get first place. I told a few people - but they did not care. Not one of them asked to read the poem, not one asked any further questions.

I guess, it would have just meant a lot to me to get some feedback and support from people around me. When you tell other people about what you do and no one cares, then you sooner or later start to feel like there's no point in it at all.

I guess the problem is that I simply don't have any true friend who would support me in some way. I remember that when I was a teenager, a friend of mine always wanted me to read my stories to her. It was nice. I did not get any money, it was an audience of one person - but that meant the world to me. To have someone sitting with me, listening to my stories, asking for more. I wish I could travel back in time. No price in the world can be a substitute for one interested friend.