16 June 2008 Monday

Pretty and unpretty poetry

Poor 1haiku. Seems comments were broken so nothing’s been going through for ages and ages (months/years)…
I just upgraded and found that individual article pages broke — were returning 500 error… solved by Textdrive(it’s still Textdrive to me)/Joyent forum. So all should be better now.

I don’t write as much as I used to. I used to write complete poems regularly, whether they were worth sharing outside myself or not. Now, and for the past several years, it’s mostly been fragments — a phrase or two — if anything at all. I had a whole two verses today; but I don’t think they’re part of the same poem.. and the sentiments don’t seem shareable.

I always liked writing for myself. I never liked writing assignments. I didn’t see myself making a living as a writer because I never appreciated the stress of a deadline for something that was personal and loved to me as writing. Writing was never “easy” to me.. it was something I always did and still consider to be a large part of me, but… It’s still much more mine to myself than mine for everyone else.

But I miss writing for others, as well. Whether news articles, essays, or prose, I suppose it felt good to consistently produce something .. especially if it was something I could feel good about reading back over, thinking maybe I used the right words, maybe I understood, maybe others found an “A” or an answer or a feeling in my pages.

I don’t need to be who I was then. Maybe I’m looking a bit for who I wanted to be then. I don’t feel lost and I’m not on a broken or false path, but the road was wider and clearer once, and for all my over thinking and trouble sleeping when I was younger, I think I was more at ease with myself then than I am now. — I’m not sure that conveys myself clearly .. I’m not uneasy with myself now, it’s just that pretty good isn’t good enough and I know better.

On a side/related note, I think I’m struggling this week with people’s perceptions of me and my reactions/responsibility in knowing. Even when I am not to blame for the way of things and have no obvious reason or obligation to entertain misaccusations or misperceptions, I still consider and sometimes agonize my responsibility or potential basis for guilt. <del />

And even after extensive consideration and understanding the situation and knowing my part in it and being able to confidently declare myself thoroughly blameless, the whole empathy thing is still there and the consciousness and awareness and sense of responsibility for my future actions and walking on eggshells afterward, even if I had no hand in them being there.

And sometimes, amidst the eggshells, I get scared that I might break or have broken something—even just a little—after all, and I get sensitive and defensive and resentful. Heh. And then I feel guilty for that, too.
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Anyway, pockets.

Master Shifu says:

“Inner peace. Inner peace. Inner .. in..in… Inner peace…………”