“Don't feel much like speaking lately. I exercise. I go for walks. I write. I stare at some words until they feel right to me. Only breaks are to be with people I care about implicitly. Don't ask too many questions beyond basic pleasantries. Everything else feels so protracted and forced. I keep dreaming of being away and isolated in the most literal way. A little hovel in some remote ruin. Only ever coming out for sunlight. Not wanting to know much else. Less excess. Less the feeling like I'm contributing to that excess. Less the obligation to be around other people in furtherance of this or that. Less people. Being attenuated with my own breathing for once. Not to live as if primed to always look for subtext in everything. Feeling vitally alive apropos of nothing else.” -May 3, 2019