and yet, while self-loathing may be my default in order first to armor myself in the face of as yet non-existent literary scrutiny, I am rather pleased with myself enough to say that I'm proud for having decided upon poetry as a means to expel my demons as opposed to drunkenness and debauchery, which in either case, would only lend itself to the unleashing of those demons on those closest to me.
Besides, it can be fun writing somewhat amusing yet transparent poetry.
But as I said, summer poetry is the product of an abundance of quiet time. I haven't much enjoyed quiet time this year. In fact, quiet time is in fact the noisiest and least restful time of all. And I don't believe for one moment that I'm alone in this opinion. Quiet time is difficult, which is why so few people actually engage in it. During quiet time, you're left only with yourself.
How frightening.
People talk about about how they would never want to marry themselves (hence, the opposites attract phenomenon...) and that's because we have the potential to make ourselves more nuts than any outside person could do. It's a sad, truth, however, that unless you want to remain a shallow and altogether non-introspective individual, quiet time with yourself is a necessary, good-for-you annoyance. Like swallowing vitamins. (Who the hell decided vitamins needed to be the size of roaches and have the density of a bar magnet??) If you can just get them down your esophagus, you won't get sick all winter. deal?
and just as you must take your vitamins daily for them to really do their job, so must we brave our own ridiculous, fickle minds.
I suppose by subjecting you people to my poetry and this blog in general, I've decided to make sure you all suffer the introspection with me!
Congratulations, ye happy people.
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