This is my letter to the world. . .
I used to think Emily Dickinson was a bit silly and simplistic. C’mon folks, there is no frigate like a book? All those subsequent, bad frigate jokes. . . to take us lands away. . . now of course I realize how exceptionally perceptive she was!
Indeed, pain has an element of blank, and apparently so does my blog. Nobody reads it. Well, maybe somebody glances at it now and then, but nobody comments. I've even adjusted the settings to make it easier to add a comment without having to create a google account- just click "Anonymous" then sign your post with your name if you wish. For a while, I was optimistic- even in the darkest hours. . . there’s a certain slant of light- I was convinced there would be zillions of interesting comments, a real discussion!- after all, hope is a thing with feathers. Unfortunately in reality, not everything flies. On the other hand, why did I need the approbation, or i-recognition? After all. . . the soul selects her own society, does she not?
How dreary to be somebody. . . .
On the other hand, maybe not-
I taste a liquor never brewed,
& write a blog seldom googled-
