Another day spent doing not much of anything in particular, except for considering which chunk of Fourier Series to give to Conjunctions. Or should I give them Severance Songs instead? The actual writing I'm doing I'm not much happy with. Or rather the re-writing. I have some poems in the notebook I put on the computer today and didn't feel my usual confidence about the changes I inevitably make in the process of transferring them—a key part of my process, though I do occasionally write directly on the computer. This too shall pass, but to what?

For sheer eloquence and heartbreakingness I can't put it better than Stephanie has.