wm. paul

everything about him was mirth and a perfect understanding of how
contingent he was. I wished I could be so laid back. I had a debt to
seriousness, and still do. A certain flailing exposure to
everything, to apprehending (maybe controlling) it all. whereas he
has seen this as a job o' work. not much troubled if screenplays
never get made or get mangled, or unphased, rather. smart, sane
grounded way to live, has closure, makes sense. my way is a
bloodletting of sorts, and a huge turgid floe of stasis to show for
it. if I ventured into that land of mirth I would decry it as the
worst cynicism. I can barely refrain from judging him, but awareness
of envy gives the lie to that...