I wrote a simple little poem a moment ago. I was about to post it when I stopped to wonder what he would think of it and how would his reaction affect me.
Would there be even more animosity (as if that's possible some days)? Would it cause him to send yet another email to his lawyer (which in turn means one from her to my lawyer and then one from him to me in a viscous, expensive cycle)? Would I feel better in some minuscule way for having posted it? Is it even possible to feel better? And, now that I've spent all this time and emotional energy pondering his reaction and the value of the post in relation to his reaction, do I even give a damn?
I go through this internal debate every time I consider posting something now. To say I am pissed off about this doesn't begin to describe my anger. I write for me. That a few people might enjoy reading my poems or thoughts is just a bonus. Writing is a release of sorts but more than that, it's a way for me to look back and remember moments, emotions, things that would otherwise be lost in the stream of fleeting thoughts that flows out from me.
I love having other people read my words. For now, it's just not worth it. So, I might still post the occasional thought here--most likely in essay or journal entry format--but I think I'm done with putting my poetry out for public view. Too often they are too close to what I really think and feel. And in those rare moments when I try to push myself to stretch and do fiction or other forms, they are taken out of context and used against me.
To put it simply; for now, I'm done.
For now.
PS: This doesn't mean I will stop writing. On the contrary, I will probably write more. I just won't be posting them here publicly. For now. There WILL be a later. I guarandamntee that.
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