The Unbearable Lightness of Blogging

One habit, I wanted to say rule,
that has emerged, is that if I can't
stop thinking about some poetry, I blog it.
A passage from e.n.s.a.m.b.l.e. (Heriberto Yepez){click here}
here miserably, hopelessly translated by Babel Fish
keeps recurring in my thoughts:

"To write once in a while for inexperienced
readers in an electronic page,
that is more or less like writing
in the wall of a toilet.
Paradoxes of the life,
miseries of Literature.
It thought to be a good writer
starting off of the inevitable failure
of the my life, not remembering most obvious:
the failure it cannot leave victory some.
On the other hand, nobody is no drama in knowing a gift.
To be a smaller writer,
an author rather spoiled has his advantages.
No longer you dream.
You are the exact photographer of your own existence..."