What is this even? He writes about writing and the world is possibilities Probabilities. Maybes. My god the maybes. And I wonder all the time, "Is this too much about me?" Because I have no idea if it comes through. ****. ...pomp and circumstance is the measure of the day! I know what's next I'm destiny, made manifest. Sheer will power capped by shear valves and sure the plumbing works But let's talk about the cost. Brass tacks. Numbers. ******* it all... He writes about writing, lacks understanding. He has no clue what any of this is. What any of it is about. And, yeah, in our 30s we aren't...aren't... We are no longer figs, Sylvia. No longer plums. Not yet prunes. **** it. Leave it. Start fresh tomorrow. With fresh eyes and... He writes about writing. Y'know? Get it? Do you get it?