I have just deleted my old blog, though I suspect that is entirely impossible with the world of the Internets. It is something I will probably regret doing, but I am getting used to that these past months.
The real question is if anyone will notice. As it is, I have hardly any readership on this blog and I suppose I deserve that, seeing how dark I have become without regularly writing poems over the course of this year.
The real issue for me is that I always seem to be chastised for the things I want. I wanted to write a book of poems completely unlike anything else I have written and I can't for the life of me find anyone to give it more than a glance, leading me to believe I have given birth to a world-class turd of a manuscript. I wanted to write another book on my home town, more comprehensive and with deference to its people and history and for my hubris have been met with a 10 month writer's block.
“No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride...and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well...maybe chalk it off to forced conscious expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
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