Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

A few weeks before my 16th birthday, I joined a website called allpoetry.com. I was a junior in high school, a very successful band nerd, reasonably skilled on the guitar and a closet poet. Why a closet poet? Because I didn't know anyone who cared.

The oily-faced individual on the left is myself around the time that I started posting to AP. A friend of mine, Michael, mentioned it one day. I can hardly even remember what brought it up. I think I'd written a short story for English that I was unreasonably proud of and he hipped me to the fact that not only did he write as well, but there was a great, wide world out there just Waiting for My stupid poems! I was hooked very easily.


16 was a particularly strange time in my life. More than being a quiet girl with a usual set of teenage problems, I was really, really depressed.

What was so damn depressing? Truthfully, I had no idea. I woke up one day and felt nauseous every time I ate. Anything. From pasta to toast bread. I couldn't eat anything without feeling horribly nauseated. So I stopped eating. For six months. I hated God for letting it happen to me. I hated doctors for not being able to figure out what was wrong. I hated myself for realizing I was "simply depressed" and the ailment was all in my head. Why am I telling you this? To illustrate what kind of shape I was in when I started writing poems on AP. I was depressed. Confused. And able to laugh about it through writing. 

I was terrible.

I mean really. My writing was really terrible in the beginning (and for many years after that). But it was mine. Nobody told me how to feel or what to think. I was throwing out new, awful poems at a rapid pace and damned if I didn't get some satisfaction out of getting my stupid emotions all Out There! Sure. I was seeing a therapist and my mom was a really great listener, but they wanted to help me. Writing just sat and took it. Me. From 16 - 19, I had gone from writing about hating God/being sick to high school romance to my first introductions to alcohol, drugs, sex, church and everything in between. Life didn't get much better for me, but my writing Did improve. I would continue improving and dedicating myself to AP for a solid decade.

During those years, I amassed around 600 poems. I had the pleasure of reading brilliant nobodies and met one writer in particular who would prove to be a constant source of laughter and inspiration. I gave AP everything I had and split myself open hundreds of times for perfect, like-minded strangers. And I loved it.

So what's all this farewell business? Well...

Over the last 2-3 years or so, AP started making significant changes to the way it ran things. I can still remember it from all those years ago, and don't get me wrong, they've made some dramatic improvements. But there seems to be a new, unavoidable focus on forcing reads and comments on users and call me old fashioned, but I just ain't with that. Half the fun of posting poetry to a website is knowing there's a great chance somebody might read it and like it, and there's an Equally great chance that No One will read it. And that's the way poetry goes! It's a beautiful luck of the draw and you keep at it until someone finds you. I don't know. Maybe I'm romanticizing things a bit. Still, AP has shifted gears and is hauling ass down a road I simply cannot follow.


I have quit AP several times in the past, but I always knew I wouldn't be gone long because I didn't have anywhere Else to write. This time, though, I've got my website. I've got my own corner in the digital world and I think it's high time I focus solely on making this place a comfortable place to live. I will no longer be posting to allpoetry and that breaks my heart more than I expected it to. Anyways. This is a long blog to explain that it's a big deal to me and I appreciate you being here with me. Like my godawful poetry 10 years ago, I hope to evolve into something you want to keep coming back for. Who knows what exciting advancements await!


Thank you for sticking with me and feel free to send all wine baskets to my P.O. Box as I am clearly in a time of mourning. 

Until next time (which should be very soon!)

-Brittany Too-Lazy-To-Change-Her-Last-Name Ortega

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