A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-And-Seven

Earlier today I was feeling a bit out of sorts, just annoyed about things in general, and so I sat and I decided to channel it out by writing some extra poems.  It felt far better than just sitting around feeling like that, and even if it did not really change things, or even improve my mood all that much, it did mean I had more work done, and that is a positive in and of itself.  I mean to say, I was happy about doing the work, even if it didn't make things at all better, and I was still, over all, upset about the general situation.  Somehow, it was good to feel I had used the energy in a productive way, though I don't know how good the poems themselves are.  That does not matter, so much, I suppose, in terms of the overall output.  I mean, I tend to think that the good poems are a bit random, that it is just luck if this poem or that one works, and the more I write in general, the better those odds.  I do believe, as well, that practice improves the work, but I think that is more about the window of quality, not necessarily how good any individual poem will be.  I don't know, I may be wrong, but in either case, the more I write the better it is for the quality of the work, in the end, and it is probably a healthier response to write more than most I could think of.  Hopefully I won't have so much to be annoyed about tomorrow, but if I do, I can at least attempt to put that frustration to better use.  

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