Yes Andrew, you can be me for a while. I think that's a great idea. Then I can be a better writer for a while.
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Maybe I just need a break from writing and poetry.

Maybe? Maybe is a hollow word.

It's happened before. It could be just one of those cycles.

I think that's wishful thinking.

What if it's just realistic thinking?

And if that's wishful thinking, what about all those years spent thinking you could be a good writer, or possibly already were a good writer?

And if all your english 'talent' was an illusion, what about art? People have told you before that you're a talented writer. Only your mother has ever told you that you were a talented artist. If praise proved false, how much worse will silence prove?

That's the point at which I can't find any reply to the empty-voice. Oh, don't worry, I'm not depressed or anything - it takes too much energy for me to be depressed. My temperament is not naturally one of despair, except in brief plunges. No, I'm not depressed. Just a little bit hollow.

On a good note, yesterday I got Paxton to fall asleep, all by myself. Let me tell you the whole story (you lucky people you): at about six he seemed tired, and just wanted to sit on the floor and hug his beach ball. So I thought, hey, I've watched Barb and Jackie put him to sleep a couple times. I wonder if I could get him to fall asleep? If I can't, he'll almost certainly start crying, and I hate it when he cries. I mean, he's got lungs! So I put him on my lap, and got a picture book, and we rocked back and forth and looked at the book for a while, and by six-thirty he was out cold. I'm telling you, proudest moment of my week. He eventually heard his mom's voice and woke up, but by that time she was coming to get him anyway. So I got to hold a sweet sleeping baby for like, an hour. And that was good.

Mom told me, "So, now say you're never having kids."

Well, sure, it's harder to say that after being around a really sweet baby like Paxton, but what are the odds of getting a baby like that? And it's not the baby stage I'm worried about - at least not once they start sleeping through the night. It's the whole, oh,-they-grow-up part. Frankly, little kids tire me. I'm not sure I want my own. Pre-teens make me grind my teeth. I don't want my own. Teenagers, by and large as a general populace, bore me. Or else they act freaking stupid and I feel like whacking them upside the head. Why would I want to be bored out of my wits by and yet responsible for a teenager? And, while, whacking them upside the head may be enjoyable, I don't think child protection services would approve. Adults? Eh, well.... frankly, who cares once they're adults? They move away and get their own lives and crap. And I can hang out with young adults or adults all I want without having my own.

Eh, not sure how I got on that topic. I'm going to go play games now. Age of Empires or Civilization or something. Or read. More books arrived yesterday.