Entirely too much self-consistency of late. Must contradict myself flagrantly and often.
What the hell is “primal fear”? Let’s muddy things up here!
How can we have gotten this far without any substantial discussion of “fear of the unknown”?
The wall. Let’s not talk about the wall. At all. Let’s not talk about the security fence on the border with Mexico. Let’s not talk about the Night of Broken Glass, the Warsaw ghetto of the mind. “If you’re not afraid, you’re not paying attention.” I think I’ll ignore that last remark.
A lover’s indrawn breath. An eyebrow’s arch. The navel’s sightless gaze. Write about the long drought, you chickenshit.
“The beginning of wisdom”? What the hell would I know about that?
All I know is what it ain’t. Neither this nor that. Neti, neti! Picky, picky!
Write more about food preparation, sanitary systems, naked mole rats, gravity and freezing rain. Don’t ever write about . . . you know.
Ravens. Write a brief (!) evocation of ravens. Or just think about it a lot.
Screw the Dao and the horse it rode in on.
It wouldn’t hurt you to finish a book sometime.