Sigh...another one bites the dust.

Yes, dear readers, that's right.  I have received yet another "thanks, but no thanks" note.  Really, this sounds worse that it is.  I've only been rejected twice - - it's not like this note is going to be added to my secretly hidden stockpile of 102 previous rejection notes, only to become more fuel on the fire of my self-loathing.  No, no, no.  This is just another little note saying that they didn't want to publish these few poems at this time.  I can live with this.  No really, it's not eating me up inside at all.  Although, this eerie sense of calm could be coming from the cold medicine....(Note to self: take cold medicine before opening those returned self addressed stamped envelopes.)

Here's the rub, folks.  I just like to write.  In fact, I just love to write.  It took me six years after graduating college to figure out that if I don't ease up on the iron fist I have around my poetry and let people read my stuff -- nothing will come of it.  Sure, I'll always get simple pleasure out of writing down the oddities in my head.  But I will never experience what it feels like to have a perfect stranger be moved or touched by my writing if I don't let it out of the cage, so to speak. 

So, yeah.  I'll just keep writing, and just keep submitting, and just keep hoping for the best.