Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Sometimes when I feel like I'm drowning in frustration and disappointment with myself, I clear the deck, delete the blog (how many has it been now, how many hundreds and hundreds of posts vaporized?), tear up the manuscript, shred notebooks, toss hundreds of pages of notes, poems, journal entries, etc, without looking back. I don't understand the compulsion to save everything one does. I don't think one can save oneself.