is how i feel most bloggers regard me, and i think i know why; but it doesn't matter/ because the only person i am competing against is me: the silence in the showy fields. In an old poem of mine i compare my voice to a pale blue moth. It isn't that i can't go on at length as so many do, eliciting: "Oh, oh, that Dragon Cecropia is here again." Or maybe it is. Admittedly i have been until recently/ away from the fray. Admittedly i am not about promoting a manifest point-of-view. Admittedly i could never fit in with certified groups, which does not mean i am uninterested in what members of such groups make. The isolation i've chosen undermines those urges in me to complain; and that, actually, is a good: it frees me. Still, i know my long absences (along with my decision to exit from submitting to editors) may have cloaked my freedom, made it impossible for any of my artifacts to ever be taken seriously. Talk about a game of chance. Whatever happens, it will be as it will be. kh00008
"To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."