pornography

what a mess! — when I
look back over my whole life,
see such a jumble
of unresolved problems — small
wonder I seek an escape!

I want to thank whoever reads and appreciates my stuff online. I have no idea who you are, and very little idea therefore why it is I put my stuff out there. It’s like pissing in the wind. But I’ve decided to resume my blog as from a couple of days ago, and the motivation is very largely a matter of self-disgust for my apparent inability to overcome a pornography addiction. It could be much worse, but still, is bad enough. Rather than wallow in self-hatred I would rather make positive headway writing poetry and processing my dreams. Which after all is the dual purpose of my blog. In this way I provide myself with ongoing evidence that I am not a shit. Or not entirely.

Today’s poem states all this. It lacks any direct reference to what I actually dreamed though. I guess that is a weakness in the poem, but I’m pleased it’s so direct and plain-speaking. One interesting thing in the jumble of images in my dreams last night, is that almost all of them involved some kind of good intention on my part. I decided to wear snowshoes in order not to frighten off a polar bear with the noise of my footsteps. I wanted to befriend a lonely maverick guy. I wanted to thank an uncle of mine for a lesson he’d taught me. I also wanted to get down and dirty with the female consort of the leader of some kind of cult. Not sure how that can be interpreted as a ‘good’ intention. Probably not. Although, relative to what the cult itself actually believed, I was ‘doing the right thing’ by entering totally into the spirit of it.

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