Obsolete.

So, it is obvious that I failed Poetry Month by shorting it by like 7 poems. Tragic. However, I think it’s a wake up call for me to spend more time (where and when I can) throughout the year, writing poetry and drafts and whatever to have it ready to share when April comes around.

It’s not like I don’t have inspiration. It’s just that I don’t like going to those places. They aren’t fun places to revisit. They are corpses I’d prefer to leave decomposing in the ground, until they turn into something new, beautiful, and unrecognizable. Fertilizer for something better.

Not all of those moments are fertilizer yet. And some of them seem pointless to revisit. I don’t want to wage word-wars with useless people who may stumble across my blog after cyberstalking me for hours and days on end who end up sending mass emails to my family about blog posts no one reads because I refused to retract the truth. (Yeah, that’s a story for another day).

Anyway, that is where I’m at. Stuck between wanting to write everything, or nothing at all, because as most people know, there’s not really an in-between.

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