you've made me see the error of my superficial attention- and approval-seeking ways. you've made me realise that living solely for my...ahem...Art is the loftiest of goals. that gnawing on dried rusks in a garret somewhere in nanaimo and drinking heavily watered wine (when i can get it) is the preferable option to actually being read.
the general gnashing of teeth and the rending of garments and the pouring of ashes on assorted foreheads has softened my cold materialistic heart and for all those who have written (literally single digits!), i shall continue.
funny though, how my heart-rending word picture of lonely little old me speaking to an empty room failed to elicit any sort of emotional response other than disgust at my frivolous desire for an actual audience.
oh well, you may be jerks and there may only be 4 of you, but you're my jerks and i wouldn't trade you for a hundred blog-reading commenters...oh wait, i would. in a heartbeat! cause i am THAT shallow.