Sometimes,
I feel as if I'm really quite done, here, you know?
I'm fine, I'm safe -
but I feel like I've reached an ending here and now I'm just
spinning in circles trying to find a way out
like a bird trapped in the faculty dining room.
Other times...
I find myself thinking "WOW,
I wrote that really well,"
and I wonder if/when/how I could,
still,
somehow
make a viable living as a writer -
or a speechwriter,
or a public speaker:
over 60 years old and fat
with so many teeth missing
as I am.
Nobody'd want to hear me
see me
read me
listen to me
hire me
I'm no expert
on ANYthing
so why would anyone want to,
nor do I blame them for not wanting to.
It's a horrible bodyless limbo
waiting for lightning to strike.
I'm fine, I'm safe -
but I feel like I've reached an ending here and now I'm just
spinning in circles trying to find a way out
like a bird trapped in the faculty dining room.
Other times...
I find myself thinking "WOW,
I wrote that really well,"
and I wonder if/when/how I could,
still,
somehow
make a viable living as a writer -
or a speechwriter,
or a public speaker:
over 60 years old and fat
with so many teeth missing
as I am.
Nobody'd want to hear me
see me
read me
listen to me
hire me
I'm no expert
on ANYthing
so why would anyone want to,
nor do I blame them for not wanting to.
It's a horrible bodyless limbo
waiting for lightning to strike.