I found Enigma tucked away in Skeleton Crew , an old Steven King book of short stories
The date on it was November , 1991
I was 31 years old when I wrote it
I don't remember writing it at all
But I do remember that I was in the middle of a muse inspired writing frenzy
I wrote a lot in that period
I remember some of them , but not this one
I posted this for a couple of reasons
Tomorrow the Nobel Prize goes to a poet
Hurray!!!
When I was in my writing frenzy
In 91 and 92
I used to dream I would be the youngest ever to win one of those
But I was smart enough to realize I would of had to die first
I had a lot of problems
Alcohol
Drugs
A real bad attitude
And a huge chip on my shoulder
Still do ... but a little more under control now
The delusions of awards and peer acceptance are gone
Now I don't give a fuck about either
I never published any of my work until now
I have thought about it from time to time
But good sense has always prevailed
Another reason I am posting this is because on February 23, 1993
I burnt all my poetry
At least I thought I did
I'll never forget that day
I bought a 24 of beer
2 hits of acid
And burnt over 200 poems
1 novel
And the drafts for 3 other novels
I haven't given a fuck about anything since
You can like this
Or not
Believe me
Or not
I don't give a fuck
I am doing this on my terms
By my rules
And maybe I'll live
I like the hard core elements in your poem! Chip in the shoulder, so as drug and alcohol problems are all elements of our time, which makes your words to sound very familiar, sincere and reminding me of a confession, I would like to make one day!You did impact me with your poem!
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