I'm in a pissy mood. I will probably remain involved with the "community" in a half-assed way as is my want. Sometimes however I wish I could "drop out" and just become a recluse. Of course I can do that, but I won't. I'm going to say something that is not directed at any one person. It's often hard to see what the point is of links, connections and various correspondences. Being a part of the "community". But then if someone was all like "Hey Mike, I wanna publish your book." I'm sure I would be all like, "Oh my God, the poetic community. Me and Uncle Creeley and Auntie Gertrude Stein. Oh where would I be without it!?" I always said that I didn't want to turn into one of those bitter poets. I don't know what really makes me a poet. Where am I going with this seriously? Where am I going with this "blog post" and this "poetic career". The fact is I just don't work very hard. I don't really try to get my poems published, I don't really try to do readings, I don't try to be a part of the "community". I don't say where the press is from that so and so had their book published by. I don't know how important any of that is. I guess I shouldn't be complaining about some percieved indifference.
There have been alot of times when I said to a friend of mine here what amounts to the opposite of what's above. But that's all really important. Sharing with your peers. Having an audience. I don't know if I ever actually said "community".
And now it is the next day. I'm a chubby frail human being. In the morning I'm writing on the other side of a "pissy attack", so things haven't gotten started yet. Though I know they will. I wasn't sure last night whether to publish this, but it's like what the hell.