Friday, March 16, 2012


Every sentence here has to be a careful one. Too many, and I'll fall back into wanting to be here every day. Above, who I thought was a violinist is no longer, but only because I know it's not a violin, playing a violin, although the instrument sounds very stringy. Imagine a simple life as (1) teaching two days a week, five classes each day, with a small staff, like you and one other person; (2) writing eight hours a day all those other days; (3) never having to be anywhere. A cell of language. Within these walls, we say, we'll speak this way. I keep going to bed with the "Michael Ellis" episode of Monty Python playing. Michael Palin has so many parts. I'm scared by the thought of being called by the wrong name and never being able to meet this other person. The best thing, you can repeat to yourself, is to stick to the schedule. Early to bed, early to etc.

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