i wrote a play today ~ granted, a very short one ~ and really it's a monologue ~ and not even a very good one, but still, i wrote it.

i haven't written a play in years.

i meant to write one for March to submit to a contest, but i couldn't come up with anything appropriate for that particular contest. when i was a playwright, i was a different person ~ how strange that is: to look at a whole body of one's work and completely not believe in it anymore. it's as if the whole of that philosophy no longer exists in my head anymore.

and it doesn't.

a whole body of work i will never stand behind.

sometimes i wonder about gerard manley hopkins, burning all of his work before entering the jesuit novitiate and how furious it makes some people (even me sometimes!) and then i think about it a little deeper and i realize that, comparisons between myself and hopkins on a literary level aside, the only thing that really differentiates us in this is that he actually had the courage to destroy his work. mine still sits, cancerously tempting me from the shelves and file folders.

i just may need to stoke a little fire this coming round of spring cleaning.

: D
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