27

how wonderful to be able to write:
it’s something you can’t do, like

playing the piano, without thinking:
it’s not important thinking, but the

strip has to wind, the right keys
have to be hit, you have to look to

see if you’re spelling the words
right: maybe it’s not the thinking

but the concentration, which means
the attention is directed outside

and focused away from the self, away
from obsessive self-monitorings:

these self-monitorings create problems
where there are none: they fill

inanition with misery, when if you
can look about and do things,

inanition goes away and so does the
misery: but I, I have a long history

of misery: I’ve suffered enough, I
should know how: it has come off and

on often enough, I should expect it:
but sometimes it has gone away for

years and then the return is difficult:
I have to (you, one has to) learn all

over again how to cope: one thing
one learns, I suppose, is that there

is little poetic value in writing
about misery: so many other things

to most people are more interesting:
almost anything is: a few of those

little rug moths fly up this time of
year and light on the walls: I get

some of them with a fly swatter, but
I don’t know that that helps cure the

moth problem: when do they mate:
when do they lay eggs: how do they

know what to do: they probably do
it without thinking: the way I

write: I write to write: it’s
not that I think that’s the way to

write: it’s that this way of writing
occupies me: it’s a way of existing

that is more comfortable than not
writing: most writers, of course,

take pains, as I’m sure they should,
to write and to write well: I don’t

mean to say this is good in spite of
my nonchalance, and I don’t mean to

demean the reader (what?) by asking
him to spend his time on time merely

spent: since I started this, 15
fairly pleasant minutes have passed:

my gratitude for that is, like,
boundless: I am encouraged to think

that maybe I can get through the
whole weekend by writing when I need

to: when I can’t find anything
(better?) to do: believe me, I wd

not do this if I were better connected,
if I were better engaged: walking

is good, but the knee joint in my
deveined leg hurts (the whole leg

swells in the heat): swimming is
nice, but I gave up my membership

when I got sick: reading is sometimes
possible: when I can read nothing

else, sometimes I can read what I
have written (that’s usually innocent

and nonviolent enough): I’ve said
before that I write so I’ll have

something to read, and that does
double the pleasure and the time the

pleasure takes: I am basically in
perfect health: but right now I

have things in the future to do that
seem like a threat: these things

are not threats but exciting
opportunities: I have just twisted

them around to where I’m afraid I
can’t do them, and that is threatening:

as a matter of record, usually when
I do such things (such as poetry

readings or dinners with presidents
(of colleges or universities) I do

them well enough to make people
kind: what could be less threatening

than kindness: it is much less
threatening, say, than love, which

is so invasive and deeply involving: