I dunno—I think we’re stuck in this country in a plotline that’s so familiar we can’t even see it. We keep telling ourselves the same damned stories over and over, are comforted by them, and live our lives by them, when in fact they are bankrupt and getting us nowhere. We are never going to win the big game, or make people love us at last, or find what we’re looking for. Friendship isn’t going to conquer all, we are not going to find the treasure, and we aren’t going to land the deal. If the worst thing that’s going to happen to us is that we’re just going to keep living for a while, we are in luck. There are a million ways to write about that experience, many of them profound and beautiful. Maybe we can do that now.
April 15, 2011