One day in the future, when I am older and wiser and presumably more educated, I will obtain a “big people job” which will, hopefully, be in the field of writing. Writing reviews, writing journal entries, writing news articles- literally just writing about anything in hopes of receiving some form of fiscal return. And until then, all I can do is practice. And while I enjoy the elements of self-expression that come with writing, I can’t bring myself to use Odyssey to write about current events.

And there’s a good reason for this: I don’t know enough.

It seems like the reasonable response to that statement would be, “Well, learn it!” But the unfortunate rebuttal to that argument is that, without proper training, education, and qualification, I don’t think I can be capable of properly articulating anything that isn’t skewed/driven by personal opinion. This is why I steer clear of subjects such as politics (unless it’s affecting me personally) and often drive my articles in the direction of things such as myself (something I happen to know much about) and aspects of my life.

I’ve been getting some poo lately from my coworkers and friends about the reputation of Odyssey as a “cancerous version of Buzzfeed.” While the choice adjective used to describe Odyssey is a little brash, I don’t think the statement is completely unfavorable. It hurts me to see kids my age, who, except for a few, have little knowledge on the subjects they’re preaching on for the sake of likes and shares.

Is it nice to see an article catch some amount of media attention? Yes. But for me is it equally as gratifying for my grandma to send me an email saying that she read my article and enjoyed it? Absolutely. I have little desire to write melodramatic statements oozing with affectedly and irritatingly self-important statements on life, politics, relationships and social constructs. Broad generalizations on the meaning of love and relationships do generally draw people to click and read an article; I myself am guilty of falling to this societal ill.

However, I am aware that I am writing for myself, for my family and friends that are interested to see what I have to write about week-to-week, and for an audience of few that care about my “stupid articles.” There’s no pouring of love and #relatable’s attached to my every statement, but I don’t have the desire to exploit myself and my work in the name of clickbait. And yes, it is my work; my articles act as the background to what will eventually (and hopefully) be my long and, perhaps one day fruitful, life of writing.

As much as it pains me (and oh, is it painful), Odyssey forces me to write and reminds me to do so, even when going to work and watching Anthony Bourdain’s “Parts Unknown” seems to be consuming my spare time. It forces me to pull out my laptop on a Friday evening, sit down, and accept that for the next half hour I can’t check my phone or stray too far from dictionary.com. Instead, I pour my energy into something that I am almost always certain will be read by seven people (on a good week).

Perhaps if I reviewed an album I didn’t really care about, or regurgitated information on Trump’s current relationship affairs with Cuba in an obscenely abstract fashion, I’d get more views and likes and publicity. And while publicity, of any sort, is supposedly “good publicity,” I’d prefer my writing to be a reflection of myself, of my life, and of what I guess would be considered my own personal Odyssey. Homer’s "The Odyssey" was a pain to read, but it stands out more than any “in-the-now” article written in haste about fidget spinners.

I can only hope mine will have a similar effect.