I don't care that you've lost your job, that you're living over a steam vent, or that your son/daughter/mother/father grandmother/grandfather is dying of some dread disease.
As if that's unforgivable enough, I don't care that you know that I don't care.
The world is a tough place. There's six billion of us, give or take a few. How many are living the good life? Millions are starving, underemployed, and unhappy. If just one of those people stops me in the street and tells me his or her story, I'm going to be feel bad and my whole day will be ruined. Fortunately I walk fast so I don't get bugged very often.
The train I ride into work goes over some poverty-stricken areas. But I rarely see anybody as the train whizzes by. When I drive into the city, I lock the doors and pause at stop signs in the sketchier parts of town.
You've written a diary that's heart-wrenching. Or at least, it must be since it's at the top of the rec list. I glance at it and see that, oh shit, it sucks to be you. Well, that's no fun. Let's see what's happening at Huffington Post.
I've got a good job and so do all my friends and so do all my loved ones. When I talk to them we have a good time talking about the finer things in life. If one of them lost a job it would be real awkward. Can't really talk about that nice vacation I just had in front of someone down on his or her luck - bad manners and all that.
You are not a real person to me. If I read your diary and the comments that follow, you probably would become real, and then I'd feel bad. Oh, maybe I'd feel a little hopeful that you haven't offed yourself and maybe some of the comments will be cheery, but for the most part, I'd feel bad.
Maybe I'll want to feel bad tomorrow, but not today. There's some good football on TV, and I have a bunch of chores I need to do.
If I do happen to read your diary and feel bad, I'd like some hard information. Are you really that bad off, or are you just exaggerating? What about the poor sap who's just as bad off as you are, but hasn't taken the time to blog about it? Maybe I should feel bad for him instead of you.
I'm not completely adverse to bad news. I like reading about bad news in newspapers and online news sites. But I must admit that I usually skip the illustrative vignette in the middle of the article, because they're usually pretty depressing, and it's impossible to tell whether the person is typical, or just some exception that the reporter is using to prove his or her point.
Finally, I know I should say I'm sorry that this diary has gotten you angry or, worse yet, made you feel bad, but like I said earlier: I don't care.