I was nervous about teaching; then I upped my meds and now I feel great. I dreamed about giving a pellucid explanation of Emily Dickinson. "You can never—fully—encompass—the ABSENCE!!!"
I was told: “I actually picture Kafka having a personality like yours, or like a combination of all my friends who love Kafka and are Kafka-like: alternately energetic and despairing.”
The clean and empty campus in the morning does seem too good for me, or for anyone; up the hill into mist spreading sunlight, the lawn, the trees, and by what right do I hold this brown paper bag with its walnut scone?
