he was getting sick an tired of
explaining his answer to buddy about how when he wrote something he felt he
was taking dictation an often sometimesmore than often when he finished a
piece put it up let it marinade returning
to it hoursdays later rereading it he had a hard time believing he wrote it
You’ve said, what do you mean?
Wha Ive said
If you wrote it you wrote it. You’re
not, or you haven’t said, hearing voices telling you what to write.
No voices no
Rather it feels more like
something coming through me like Im a
conduit
A medium?
No
Possibly a kind of receptive atmosphere Certainly not tangible tactile
I don’t understand.
Yare trying too hard Let go the notions you believenot think believe our meat is capable of Think nano Expandenlarge our bodies Then imagine the vast room between atoms that
compose us
Theres plenty room there
for whaever
So . . whatever . . . wrote what
you wrote.
Sometimes
Yessometimes I don feel I
authored wha my pen put to paper my fingers depressed keys wha I wrote in light
on Word Sometimes
I don’t understand.
he read a review by Wu about
VanderMeers Veniss Underground
texted to buddy “ . . . the
boundary between the writer and the words written, between the person and the thing,
subject and inanimate object, is not as well-defined as we’d like to believe.” mebbe thall help you understand my answer
no matter
he was grateful for what he xpressed
1008, Thursday,
11 5. 23
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