Why is it that I find it so easy to ramble here or the tumblr but so hard to compose the lengthy publishable pieces I need? Immediacy, I suppose. I like the idea of people reading my work. People other than Gina. And a dormant perfectionism. I get so bogged down in the details of my various long form pieces that I rarely can bring them to a satisfactory close; they languish in an limbo bogged down in one insignificant detail that no one will look up, that three people in the history of ever might complain about, all because I know that it is probably wrong or contains within it the potential to be misconstrued. Then again, what doesn't? And so I am placed in a position where I really need to get over myself and get on with it. Because while it is satisfying to check the blog stats and find out that some 49 people have read my writing, it would be so much more satisfying to know that my writing had been legitimately published in a journal that boasts an actual readership and a substantial distribution/subscriber network. But enough of that, food's here.
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