Poetry Arrived In Search Of Me
Y fue a esa edad...Llego la poesia a buscarme. -Pablo Neruda

Sure. Have another Maker's, Kasey.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006
This has nothing to do with poetry, but perhaps the one and a half people who actually read this will pardon my departure from the established form.

I just spent an hour pounding on my keyboard about how tired I am of people in general, ranting about humans using one another like paper plates, and screaming about how it's always the best people who end up damaged and hurt. I deleted it, because it is a ridiculously cliched sentiment, and I had nothing interesting or new to add. No amount of writing will help decent people get everything they deserve or make the assholes change. All I can do is continue to judge people by intentions, not by actions, because even the best ones fuck up, and even the worst can somehow end up smelling like roses every single time they screw someone over.

Excuse me. This doesn't make any sense, I know. But I'm just tired. Tired of smiles being used as masks, and of walls and of the necessity of walls. Tired of defending the people I care about from people who can see no further than their own wants. I'm physically and emotionally beat down, and not in the mood to deal with the fake niceties that we pass off as conversation when real things are waiting to be said. But sadly, they'll continue to wait.

In other news, while the aforementioned one and a half people are already in the pardoning mood, I will now ask that you forgive my short attention span. I spent hours last week sitting in the middle of the poetry section of Powells, and as my leg was falling painfully asleep, I realized that I was reading verse again, which was the whole point of my little corner of the internet. I'm just not interested in making my half assed analyses public anymore. When I've lost interest and no one else had any to begin with, it's an easy end. So poetry, I do believe, has arrived for the last time here.

Except: Hey, you. Yeah, you. If you feel like emailing me, please do. The address is right there on the side of the screen. I was younger then, and thought I was making some point. I didn't take in account both of our stubbornness. So yeah, just say hi. And tell me how you're doing.
11:09 PM :: 8 comments ::

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