It's so easy to erase some things. Yesterday, for instance, I accidentally deleted a blog post. I published the thing, went to edit it later when I noticed a typo and -- oops -- hit "delete" instead of "edit." And it was gone. Instantly. Like it never existed.
And then today. And this is going to be a bit gross so read on at your own peril. Today I got a mole removed. Two hours in my dermatologist's office and that fleshy chocolate chip that's been annoying me since I could wear a bra was excised from my back.
I wish it was that easy with my creative turmoil; that all the emotional baggage I'm holding onto over my work could get lopped off or deleted and be sent far away to some mole lab or the Matrix or wherever deleted blog posts go.... The Grid maybe? Hell, I don't know. Hey Keanu! Why don't you and that guy, that Tron actor guy, fight it out and get back to me?
What's that, Keanu? Thanks to me you'll never be able to eat a chocolate chip cookie ever again? Puh-leese. Aren't you The One or whatever? Shouldn't you be able to like BE a chocolate chip?