I am instead perusing the web, looking at all my options for selling out. Yes, I may have to write short stories, or even (gasp) a novel. To me, that is selling out. I am, of all unproductive, poverty-stricken professions, a poet at heart. But no one wants a poet.
Which makes sense. Any asshole can write a poem. Then again, any asshole can write a story. Maybe it's all luck. Either way, I'd better get cracking or nothing will ever happen.
Or perhaps I should just do my work. I do need a job in the meantime, and it could be a long long meantime, couldn't it?
0 comments so far
Nostalgia | Revelations