Sometimes I don’t know who to be: the editor, speaking for the magazine; the writer, speaking for himself; neither, speaking for my rawness with words that go bump in the night.
The writer keeps notebooks that the editor keeps him from. (It’s a bumpy ride; hang on. — Ed.)
So much schooling. It takes years to shake off, but never completely. The spiritual journey becomes a curriculum, too — life a “test” or a “lesson,” or a problem to be solved. Teachers everywhere, with their idiosyncrasies and demands and harsh grades. Enlightenment a prize.
