Time was, I wrote a lot. Angsty teenage poetry (I liked to think it was some of the better angsty teen poetry around), stories in which all the characters were basically myself or people I knew, stuff like that. But at least I wrote, and I thought I was going to get better at it. These days I've clammed up - I mostly write equations. See, I was reading Salon's article about Zoe Trope's high-school journal, and I felt as though I was reading my own stuff from back when I was that age - all stuff that I'm a little ashamed of now, and I've mostly thrown away. I had a few different thoughts while I was reading this excerpt, in this order:

1. This reminds me of stuff I would have written back then, except my journal was in poetry form.

2. I could totally have written this book. Why have I not gone on any anonymous book-signing tours?

3. Wait, I destroyed all my old writing because I hated seeing it. Would I really want to have it permanently out there, with tons of people reading it?

4. How is Zoe going to react to that very situation in a few years?

5. What made me stop writing?

The only answer I could come up with for #5 is that I am happy and calm now; I was unhappy and dramatic then. What does that say about the lives of poets? Maybe I just learned to write at the wrong time. People should learn to write as children, then not even see any pencils for a few years while their hormones settle down. That might work.

I actually had an idea for a poem today: a poem about how I'm so out of practice that I'm not sure I can write any more poems. It'd also reference that "pen is mightier" thing, by having a bit of martial arts imagery. It could be okay, or it could be just as bad as my old stuff is (it didn't age well).

I am partly starting this blog in an effort to get used to writing things down again. Hopefully it will get less truthful and more artful as time goes on.