a poet at one time – albeit a poor one at that

Last night, it occurred to me that the reason I feel like the speed of my life is accelerating at an increasing rate might be that I haven’t committed a single personal word to paper (or keystroke) in quite some time. There might be some tenuous connection between my groundedness and the amount of writing I can accomplish. I used to write all the time. I even considered myself a poet at one time – albeit a poor one at that.

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