I wanted to post about Thanksgiving today, but since I am in the process of going thru pics, I thought I would just wait until I am done and can sure them all in one post.

So instead I decided today I would talk about poetry.  Because I’ve been writing again.  Which is a MAJOR deal since I actually went years with barely writing a thing.  And I don’t particularly like it but I think I am one of those people that find it easier to write when things are shitty in life.  I suppose it serves as a type of inspiration and an escape.

Around the time that I stopped writing regularly, I was probably at my best, confident in my works and ability to the point that maybe I was even a little bit prideful about it.  A poetry writer/published author/creative writing instructor told me that my work was good enough for publication and I just sort of shrugged “I know” like a complete dick.  It was the type of confidence I only wish I could muster 1/10 of now.  And instead of capitalizing on being at my best… I threw away the opportunity by putting writing aside to apparently focus on what was my muse at the time, partying.

Fast forward to now and over the past couple of years I have managed to eek out a few things here and there.  Okay more than a few, but only a few are worthy in my eyes.  Earlier last year I had a short period of time where I felt quite inspired and thought…woo I’m back!  It was short lived.

Currently I have been writing when the mood strikes which is obviously not as much as I would like, but something is better than nothing.  I’ve been completely paranoid about sharing anything I do though.  Like I said, the confidence is gone.  I am thinking of putting things out into the universe, here and there. After all I notice myself becoming envious of people who seem to share so freely but then I realize I am not sharing at all so my envy is unfounded.  I am not sure there is a point to creative writing without sharing it with somebody to be quite honest.  It is a valuable unique contribution to the world.  It deserves to be shared.  Even in the end, if I or you or anybody else is shitty at it, at least we have given ourselves a voice and that is perhaps more important than if something “was a good poem”.


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