sure i could sure i could, but i won't. six months ago i would have, i think. maybe even three months ago. hopefully not three months ago. what's the statute on understanding previous versions of yourself? when do you stop being now and start being then? we talked about that on the water last night -- whether time is infinite snapshots or a single moment that stretches forever.
sure i could. i could. but i won't. and not because it's not good for me, not because i want to but i know better, not because i want to at all. not holding back, not prohibiting, that's the greatest thing i've grown into. people say they want honesty, but they don't. they want honesty when the honesty turns out to be what they wanted. they don't want it in virtue of itself. and i'm not going to indulge that, not anymore. there's no one to hide from but me, and i'm not going to indulge that, not anymore.
i haven't done this in a while. the edge of the bed and the edge of the tub feel the same for now. i'm louder this time, though. much louder. i don't know why i'm quiet other times. i'm not holding back, it just doesn't come out. sometimes i wish it would, but i can't think like that too long otherwise things get muddy. nothing got muddy last time. it's not muddy this time either, it's clear, so clear. i like that. it lets me know i'm moving the way i'm supposed to, the proper trajectory, from the middle out and not from the edge in.