I’m trying to find a place to house all the poems and works that I like. Facebook is one means but Facebook gives me anxiety — it’s the big room filled with all the people you’ve crossed paths with but don’t necessarily want to call or chat with over a beer. It’s the pulpit to a pew of half-acquaintances. It’s fast and exhausting most of the time. Plus, what made it even more exhausting is that a mentor of mine once told me that Facebook is the place where you can (and should) cultivate your public image as a writer. Jeez. I’d spent years posting catalogues of photos, unbridled political ramblings, posting clever and not-so-clever comments on my friends’ pictures, and more recently, liking every video of a baby/small animal/large animal acting like a small animal, betraying my regular need for a dopamine boost. Also, my recent follows include Mitu and Showry–both highly recommended. Public image, schumblic pimage. I’ll cultivate one when my not-yet-hired PR agent hires someone to do it for me.
For now, I’ll just post poems and pieces that I like, give them a category, and create a tab on my page for my loyal readers to quickly access the things that I enjoy.