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There is nothing I hate more than
the odor of an organizer.

Now imagine- for what seemslike an
impossibly long time, I will not write
poetry. X is right- but *fuck
him.* What a crank.

I am bound and determined not to let
such "organizer-cranksters" rule my
life.

But really, what holds me back?
It is tremendous anxieties surrounding
my success- and potential for much
more success. Imagine how long and how
much I've held myself back.

Such bottom-line questions as- if you're
so smart-why aren't you rich?
I've become much more interested in developing
controls than I am in expressing myself.
I spent most of my life looking for ways
to express myself and now the whole
subject is coming up makes me
wonder about myself.

On the other hand- there is no sweeter
right that I cherish above anything-
is this right to express myself without
official involvement being necessary. Obviously
by my mmense hesitations to write
anything at all and my even growing
offhand way of dealing with it- I try by
every means not to take myself too
seriously- on the other hand- that
it embarasses me to write *that* is still
incredible-given my awareness and concern
about the privacy of this act.
(A series of images followed this...)