Maybe I said what I said wrong. I'm always trying to see everyones point of view. But... (Isn't there always a but) when I sit down to write sometimes I am just writing for myself. Trying to write and get in touch with myself, take away my thoughts and habbits derived from other people and be only my natural self. When I sat to write a poem on 9/11 I wanted to have one of those times. Where I was only writing for myself no one else. I lost a loved one and I wanted the poem to be for me... and her since she would be able to see it from above no others. But it didn't turn out that way I started thinking, and seeing with everyone elses eyes and wrote for everyone else. Make sense more now?

Do you only feel like that at 365.24 day intervals?

You have made three glaring errors: a)The boy in the poem is merely fictional, and therefore incapable of acquiring knowledge or skills. b)You have confused the expression "To stand on ones's face" with the action of actually physically standing on one's face. c)I never claimed to write poetry for a living (though I of course could do if I so chose). You can't just make a word into an insult by putting it in inverted commas.

Between the drug dealer story and the "show me your tits", which was the icing on the cake, you get a twelve. or would if I could vote higher than ten. I hate some other stuff in the world too, though. Namely cold foggy weather and whoever is behind the lateness of my fucking student loan. i applaud you, sir.