blurred lines

blurred lines...the quintessential song of the summer...or as i refer to it brain crack...the minute it comes on the radio, it becomes a permanent fixture in my brain for the day...not a good thing since i seem to have trouble keeping anything else in there lately...i'm sure some of you can relate...you complete your "to-do" list only to realize that you forgot to put half the things you need to do on the list...it is part and parcel of age, or merely overload?...i couldn't really tell you because if i think about that, then the things i need to remember...the useless minutia of daily life...will slide into that bermuda triangle..blurred lines...those lines that writers walk along...like a tightrope...putting our work out there...asking for criticism, then cringing when it hits you like a shitstorm...and here i am, book number two a file in "my documents"...sending it out to small poetry presses...along with hundreds of other writers...for the chance at publication...most presses have only 3 or 4 slots open...you do the math...so hopeful as i hit the send button...until reality sets in with the dreaded email in the inbox...the attempt at personalization, but you know it's a standard response...and these are the thoughts that keep me up, tossing and turning, in the deep greys of early morning...the only sound i hear is my heartbeat...accelerating in the self-induced anxiety of a writer who still believes in the power of print over i-pad...who still is in awe of all the undiscovered dreamers hitting that send button...but now its 3am...maybe it's time to push these thoughts off the cliff into that bermuda triangle...i think i'll try listening to the music in my head...it's easier to sail to sleep with robin thicke's falsetto in the background...and imagining those baby blues...