"I don’t write poetry when I wish, I write when I can’t, when my larynx is flooded and my throat is shut."Lately I spend too much of the night chasing myself in panicky laps around the inside of my head. The idea of opening my journal frustrates me for some reason on such nights, so when I'm fed up with lying in bed I rise and fill loose pages with the things that I can't yet make my peace with, and pretend they're going somewhere in the mail, perhaps to my freshman-year roommate's mailbox in Massachusetts. I don't know, maybe they are.
– Anna Kamienska
And I have rewritten each page so many times, just to change the telling slightly and see if it will make more sense this way, or that way... I put on that Antlers song ("Two") for the relief of hearing him sing the line near the end, "Two ways to tell the story." The multiplicity of ways to truthfully relate a single event is fascinating and kind of obsessing me.