5:30 pm
Dear J,
Spent the entire day thinking about lyric essays and it led me to this walk. There is a fine line separating walking and writing. An essay is a walk. The more it meanders the more it tries to become an essay. That is to say, the more it tries to try.
Thinking about all of these bring me to a question ungraspable: why do some of us speak in a straight line while others meander? And this leads me to another question I’ve been wanting to ask you: why be agnostic?
Writing this, I realize, is a sort of meandering of its own. But I am compelled to ask because for more than half of my life, I survived without any need for poetry. I survived without needing to try, to meander. I mean, it’s like when I asked my friend the other day is she reads poems and she said, if she likes it, she likes it. It’s like walking without asking yourself why. So I ask, why now? What happened?
6:05
When do we realize our choice to meander involves life or death?
A new tarp hangs outside St. Therese chapel. She died yesterday. She was 64.
—
Brilliant wordplay. But it should’ve been used for Pangasiniana
If I want to write lyrical philosophy:
- it’s proper to make it easy to find lines/verses
- Divide in books, chapters, and verses.
- See Bluets.
- Check works categorized as lyrical philosophy