#is the motivation to post. on my silly little blog that frankly i dont even care about! let alone do i expect others to

[britneyshakespeare]

You know what's a realization I've made just now at this moment. I've been thinking for the last couple of days about how lately my poetry feels like it has no significance to me anymore, and I don't know why or how. It certainly felt more significant to me when I was youngest, when my poetic offerings were least often worthy of much praise, when I was excited and felt catharsis. Before I was even twenty, poetry became more of a craft/hobby than a diary (to give myself credit, it was a craft/hobby when I was fourteen/fifteen too, but I built that craft/hobby out of my teenage sentiments and obsessions rather than a more concerted effort of skill or construction). And it's been many years since I wrote poetry that was about people; I can't tell you the last time I wrote a poem that was purely about my feelings for another person. More often I write poems about conflicts or problems or things I'm figuring out. Very often my poetry is just inspired by whatever book I'm reading. But I'm not interested in my poetry lately whatsoever; I write it coincidentally. I have no interest in elaborating through that medium anymore at this point in my life. I'm not sure why I continue. And my realization is that I actually have felt this before. My poetry feels like a dormant interest because very few things inspire or excite me right now. My poetry feels insignificant when I'm in a phase where my life feels insignificant.