These days I’m reading The Wisdom of No Escape by Pema Chodron, and Alan Moore’s Watchmen. Perhaps it’s a strange combination, but for some reason it feels perfectly natural to me. I have started to write a little booklet for Matthew’s collective, but somewhere along the line have become stumped. Much of what I’m writing these days, I reread a few days later and want to throw out. I suppose I haven’t been all that well on several levels and my writing has suffered from it; I feel disconnected. The words don’t come easy. Yet I’ve overcome this before. A big part of me expects it to repair, as if a sort of writer’s immune system at work here, fighting away.