I Had The Sensation That I Might

My Voice And Movements Are Restricted By The Things I Own.

Because I Grew Up With This Naive Expectation Of People Doing Right, I Get Shocked By Every Little Violation.

But That's One Lifetime." Yeah." But While Doing That One I'd Want To Be Able To Have Done Other Stuff. Whole Other Lives- The One Where I Sail-" I Know, On A Boat You Made Yourself.

We Are Unusual And Tragic And Alive.

But The Grind Has Begun. The Windows Don’t Open, And Even The Availability Of Near-constant Jokes About Jews And Mormons Fails To Stem The Tide Of Frustration, Decay. We’ve Reached The End Of Pure Inspiration, And Are Now Somewhere Else, Something Implying Routine, Or Doing Something Because People Expect Us To Do It, Going Somewhere Each Day Because We Went There The Day Before, Saying Things Because We Have Said Them Before, And This Seems Like The Work Of A Different Sort Of Animal, Contrary To Our Plan, And This Is Very Very Bad.