This list would be too long, so I’ll keep it short: always being the one to replace the near empty toilet paper roll. Checking out friend requests from scantily clad women. Cleaning the litterbox, and spending too much trying to develop a “website” that likely won’t become more than a fancy LinkedIn, or a place for friends or followers who press “like” list. I’ve never aspired to be Christ, Buddha, Trump, or Muhammad, so don’t feel compelled to follow me. just make a comment.
Rather than doing those (and many other tasks I should repeal), I would much rather be spending my time posting poems on YouTube, or some other site on the internet that people have to read your post for thirty seconds before they can press “skip” and then move on to read, or skip one of your poems. An ap like every add that interrupts anything you choose to pay attention on the wonder net.
The time mentioned above needs to be spent overcoming my hesitance to start volunteering my work to submission. What I should be doing is what friends and family have been urging me to do for years. Rather than making excuse like saying “no, I don’t have the time”, excuses which actually mean that after 40 years I still fear rejection. Same reason that I never dated for fear of asking girls out and skipped so many sock-hops and proms. That, until recently, when I finally got forever lucky with someone because she didn’t say “no, because you might interfere with my goals.”
Oh, she’s entering the driveway now. I got to close this up. I’ll sneak back later and proof read it once and pinning a requisite picture on it and maybe share it on Facebook for a couple more of those auto-likes, see if the numbers compare to the Instagram hearts or whatever being followed means. Maybe she’ll watch my back.
see ya soon- -dp-
torn words, 
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