I Had The Sensation That I Might

Suffering Is Only Suffering If It’s Done In Silence, In Solitude. Pain Experienced In Public, In View Of Loving Millions, Was No Longer Pain. It Was Communion.

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.

Tim O'brien's Book About Vietnam, The Things They Carried, Has Won Every Award, Is Studied In College And Is Considered To Be Definitive. But It's Fiction.

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Utopia: We've Turned Into This Surveillance Society And Become A Race Of Spies, Where We Track Our Kids And We Track Our Spouses And We Track Our Friends. I Think Very Soon There Will Be An Obsolescence Of Trust, Because It's Much Easier To Access A Person's Location Than It Is To Ask - Or To Trust.

Once A Year, She Remembers That She Is Insignificant. Then She Forgets Agains, Because More Than She Is Insignificant, She Is Forgetful.