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12/28/06

5:43 AM They want me to give them more than what’s expected, and then they’ll reward me. The problem of course is that what’s expected is never clearly defined in the first place.

5:50 AM I was kept lingering in a state of shallow sleep by excitement and expectation of what’s been new recently. But, once again, my own history repeats itself and I find myself only to wake up to a disappointment that is my own beautiful creation.

6:10 AM General question: How do you resolve the moral gulf between being spiritual and being a corporate lawyer?

6:14 AM Some sayings make you want to ignore and defy them simply from their ubiquity and generally blind acceptance at face value. (Don’t judge a book by its cover, look at what’s inside, etc.)

7:54 PM In Page after Page, the author states that the input that goes into writing is public, and what comes out, what you actually write, should remain private. That is, you should read and talk to other writers and discuss books and writing and all you love about it, but when you actually sit down to write, that should be your own personal affair and shouldn’t be discussed until after the fact. Writers have to be very secretive, she says, and the same time very communal.

I would like to know how writers around me feel about this. Is this an accurate description of your writing method? Is this how you write?

9:17 PM I’ve tied my rope to a sinking ship, I know that. But still I can’t help it. It’s a definition of me to identify with the underdog, and if it’ll be the reason for my demise, so be it. If success is to push the weak ones aside (and I know that’s what evolution essentially does), it’s a bitter pill for me to swallow, because as hard as I try, I can’t remove the human element from my consideration in these tender moments of reflection.

I’m aware I’m a different animal sometimes, talking of people as ants, and indeed in some moments in the big city I really do see them that way, because if I didn’t my heart would be overwhelmed by the depth of the multitude of souls walking about me and I wouldn’t be able to function. I still take pride in teaching my neighbor that small lesson I feel like a better person for knowing over him.

But in the end, I have to accept my sensitivity to the human condition. I can’t push those questions out of my head and pretend they’re not there, because they always have been and always will be there. How do they function? How do they go about their daily lives? I’ll forever project my thinking self onto their bodies and wonder how they’re not as curious as me.

I see the ship sinking already, and perhaps I wouldn’t be so poetic about it if I didn’t have an escape plan in mind. The rope is tied but thankfully it’s long enough that by the time the ship sinks I’ll have safely made it to the river’s bank, to set myself chasing after another opportunity to find myself sinking in other waters somewhere else.

9:29 PM I write in vague form, and I do so on purpose, because everything I write about relates to another person or persons. I wouldn’t want to violate their identity or encroach on their self-respect with these wild thoughts I’m putting out.

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