Remember when I said that I was learning not to think, because it was getting me literally nowhere and metaphorically into trouble? Well I’m taking a little break from that, just to relieve a bit of the tension. It builds up when you’re not paying attention, sort of like how your vision gets blurry, and you don’t even realize it until you make an appointment for an eye examination, and then it’s suddenly very clear, but only metaphorically speaking, because you still can’t see a thing, at least until the new lenses come in. Well. I’ve been thinking again. And I’ve been wondering. What did you mean when you asked if I were now less confused? I mean, I thought I was—less confused that is, when you asked the question, but now, since you’ve said nothing further, and I’ve been thinking about it, I’m not so sure. And what did you mean when you said that my poems had gone beyond your comprehension? Were you insulting me? And if so, was the insult subtle, or blatant? And why should I be wondering whether you are insulting me, or not? And, finally, when you asked whether I thought myself neurotic, last autumn, what exactly did you mean by that?

-Nettie Farris