It seems pretty obvious , doesn't it, that if something makes you happy, you should do it.
If it isn't illegal and it doesn't hurt yourself or anyone else, you should do it.
If something like that makes you happy, why aren't you doing it?
You know what I've realized recently? Writing poetry makes me happy.
The act of creating poems makes me happy.
Getting them to "work", for me, makes me happy.
If someone else enjoys them when I read them, that also makes me happy.
Having poems published, trying to have them published, thinking about having them published, thinking I "must" have them published, does not make me happy.
In the case of poems that have been published, I was happy for about 5 minutes. Then I only wanted to see another one published.
The happiness of writing poems -- even poems, yes, that others might find absolutely dire -- is enough to carry me through the dull and mindnumbing grind of my current job (a job that is the best I can do at the moment), and all of the mindnumbing moments of parenting children (which is not to say that those are the only moments, just that there are many mindnumbingly dull ones).
I did not realize all this until recently. Isn't that funny? It seems so simple.
Collateral Damage, by U. A. Fanthorpe
57 minutes ago