Back to Pen&Paper. Terrible does not come anywhere near describing what I feel about the loss of my Laptop, but I am getting over it now. Be that as it may, each passing day sinks me deeper into the vale of despair over the loss of my un-backed-up four complete manuscripts, and a copy of every of my poems- the good, the not-so-good, and the nonsensical ones.
But i will be consoled if my works fall into literate hands who may know what they are worth, for what they are worth; a samarithan (good or not) who will either bring them back to daddy or at least adopt and nurse them to maturity. I will not mind or fight it if some inspired goon set about publishing them, with or without credits to me. It has happened before when my Aussy Pussy GF stole my first ever poetry collection: WADDING IN SHALLOW WATERS, published it under a pseudonym, and sent me a e-copy- funny eh?. But it is the way of this fast lanes world, or so I thought.
It will be a reckless waste, if those labours of mine, wrought in the flickering luminence of the midnight oil lamp, never see the light of day. I have burned my candle at both ends in those many long nights of self-denial. My copyrights are of little significance in the face of this heart-breaking, head-splitting, unbearable, painful loss. I am working at recovering most of them, from media and online sites where they have been published. But a throwback on Pen&Papper is a arduous task. God know, it is the hardest chore since the days of the cave men (and women)
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