note

I’ve been busy with the new job; started yesterday. also went to a poetry slam, won second prize, and got to bed at too late an hour. having little sleep is always a big challenge. I walk away with a serious sore throat and a headache from a smoky club. the people were nice enough, but if a lot of my pieces are about suffering and pouring my heart out, and I’m reading to a bunch of people who are sitting around drinking beer, wasting each other’s time, then somewhere down the line I’m going to feel cheated. or even the very next morning. maybe right now. sting in the eyes. the world is not going to treat me gently at this hour.