Three days, and then

I suppose it silly to suppose that I could outdo my last writing on the subject, which was merely two or three days ago, now, as though perhaps in these few moments anything can be said to have changed. However, these things do take time to pass, as they do, as I know, very well.

One could attempt a mockery of my "I suppose it silly", fooling himself into believing that I had intended to write "I suppose it's silly"; but then, I generally always say exactly what I intend. There is an "understood" "to be" in there, such that the meaning is "I suppose it [to be] silly." But then, who questions my use of words? Somebody could, and I'd just like to point out that they would be mistaken, and will have to try harder in the future to argue that I am an imbecile.

Nearing the time that I must retire though it is, continue I do. And here we are; or, I am, rather; or we.

But what has my previous object lacked, the previous writing that I created? What has it lacked? again I ask, because the first sentence was not strong enough. I'm not sure what it lacked. I suppose it was lacking in that it did not create in my mind a stubborn resolve, a resolution, as it were, that I would go about doing anything in particular to woo my enchantress. Perhaps the summation of the situation is that I have merely done my best to sum up for her, in text, how that I am interested in hearing from her more, and that she has decidedly not made that happen. I have not gone to great lengths to avail myself to her, nor have I made lengthy petitions for apt response. I have merely let bygones be bygones, because, in simpleness, it is the best of the options that I have derived from the possibilities I see. If I were to say, "Hear, hear; you are to speak to me further," the response I would achieve would not be at all the dreamt-of response that motivated me to SAY, "Hear, hear;" and if I were to drive to her place uninvited, and if she responded with a hesitant, vague sort of jubilation, then I would be forced to always be going out of my way to get her attention, and I honestly don't know how well I could cope with that-- it would be a large change for me; and then, later, it might even prove a fleeting solution; she might eventually respond just as she'd respond to "Hear, hear; you are to speak to me further."

No, none of those would do. And so, as I guess I must do in these situations, I have absolved myself of further responsibility. Now, what can I do, in addition to this resignation? I can dream; but in contrast to these dreams, what terrors may come, if, while my mind is set upon one dream, the things I see are distinctly of a different sort?




I suppose, eventually, somebody will be somebody different; and though I prefer the enchantress now, in the future, another will come. It is a sad compromise, but somebody has to do it.

I could write [countless] volumes on the subject, but I only have one night to sleep before working, and I must do all that I can to turn off the "cogs" and other mechanical devices that [it has been suggested to me] make my brain go.