Dear Wigleaf,

Most of writing is waiting. Waiting to write. Doing something else while waiting to write. Most of waiting is thinking about writing. An idea, no pen, waiting for a pen. A pen, no idea, waiting for an idea. An idea, a forgotten pen, spend the wait trying to remember what to write. Spend the remembering waiting. Hope it doesn't take long to remember. Hope what you don't want to remember doesn't take long to forget. Type up what you've written. Hit the space bar.

I want to see things clearly. On snowy days driving to work the windshield speckled with flecks of dirt and snow makes it feel like I'm gazing into marble, trying to see through stone, and the urge to use the wiper fluid is overwhelming, my hand trembling over the wiper switch—I just want to see clearly.

Hit the space bar again. I don't like what I've just written. Hit the space bar again, hold it down. I want to distance myself from what I've just written.

Eric






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Read EB's "You Will Be Alone for the Rest of Your Life."

w i g · l e a F               04-07-12                                [home]