you know, considering all i've been thinking about writing, about how it's parsing, framing and distilling, it's amazing that anyone can write a personal essay. how do you parse the personal? i feel like it would take majestic powers of self criticism to recognize that which is extraneous, for what is extraneous in one's own life?

that which gives things structure, what helps you put yourself in perspective are the experiences of other people; joan didion needs gawain and poets and the catchphrases of her husband. it puts things in perspective without which you have the blind, crippled extravagance of Synecdoche's theatrum mundi.

this is all to say that there's hope for me yet, i just need to read more, but not too much, because that's overwhelming too, but something in between. i'll figure it out, erring more on the side of reading. i've been luxuriating with my ideas about undead dust bunnies.