Computers do strange things to your art
You can’t rip a file
I mean you can rip it off a cd apparently
But you can’t tear it in half – you have to give it somebody
Once something’s written down you can’t hide from the reality
You either accept it or delete all knowledge of its existence
In one moment
You don’t even get the joy of trashing and burning
Does that help? Is that a good thing for, let’s say, a writer?
Maybe. But I find lots of old material I don’t want to change.
It’s interesting, sure, but I probably won’t use it again.
The ideas are in me, they always were, so why worry about
Them being lost anymore than they might already be?
This way is conducive to selling, or, better, to communication
I guess
Selling is communication’s psychotic half brother,
Probably from a different father
Causing pain with healing and vice
Versa
Well, we know all this don’t we?