Why not

◦ I’m writing this for you, and I don’t know who you are, I’m betting you care more about what I’m doing than I do and I love that. I need that. I say I create for me but that’s not exactly true - not true in the way that it is likely to sound. The truth is I exude, or excrete, not create, it’s not entirely active as a process, I get it out, out here and on the paper. Why that? Why anything. This sacred communion is me saying something of me must be worthy. This is in part purging looking for what. It looks how it looks not by thinking or planning but by carefully watching. I have to see myself write it, and then judge it to be clever or sharp or poignant, judge it to be good. And then I have a catharsis. A momentary tributary treat.

◦ And a problem with this - with stacking worthiness on the excretion is that it’s past tense. That worthy thing was in me, and now it’s out. Am I the goose that only laid one golden egg. The smartest thing I’ve ever thunk is the smartest thing I’ve ever thunked out.

◦ I’m not the goose or the egg - I’m the one who’s glad to have them.