Inferior

Blocked. Not that it matters. There seems to be no painting, no words, nothing coming out. And even if they did, they go to the home of all my other cerebral meanderings. Into one of the notebooks or boxes, or found receptacles of not good enough art. Nearly two years at this blogging thing, and almost nothing shared. I don't know what I was thinking. That there was going to be some miracle in blogger that would quell the self loathing, or feeling of being inferior? That after a lifetime of poems that aren't good enough, or books that are half written, or sketchbooks that none but my eyes have seen, I would suddenly put it all out there. Well it didn't quite happen like that, in fact I've learned that I am quite the procrastinator since starting this. Right now, I am frantically searching for something I wrote 2 years ago, called "Thief's Lament". I don't think anything else I ever produced came close describing me as well as it did.