Earlier in my adult life I wrote poetry, mostly quasi-biographical stuff. I found that most of my writings were the outpouring of some event in my life. More recently, in July 2000, after being unpleasantly ousted from my position as minister of music, my doctor referred me to a psychologist, and I went through grief therapy, the loss of people I had grown so close to in my music ministry, having been the equivalent of losing loved ones to death. In both cases, the acts of pouring out my thoughts assumed the mechanics of a relief valve.
Recently I have been screaming at the media, the government, campaigns, and in generally, the world -- in my mind, anyway. Watching the economy go down the toilet, the vile and dirty machinations of politics, a financial rescue of Biblical proporations -- to the WRONG FOLKS, and more -- called for more than a poem or a now-monthly talk with my therapist. Now, I can empty my garbage can anytime I want to.
What a wonderful thing technology can be for someone who learned to type on a manual typewriter and whose first job required typing letters on an IBM Selectric typewriter using SEVEN carbons. If you weren't around then you probably take all this great stuff for granted. Using the internet is so much sweeter when one comes from the "pre-BBS" age.
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