perhaps there is an algorithm describing the relationship between the financial stability offered by a job and the risk it creates for public humiliation. don’t bazillionaires and other politicians need no shame in order to function and isn’t that a certain amount more than other horrors of standing up to be judged? it must be a quantifiably different form of humiliation than the version my friends with grocery jobs experience. show me the math. yesterday I prepped so that today I won’t be too afraid to write but I don’t know how much prep I’d have to do to keep the fear down for more than a few hours here and there. show me the math for that. fear of being poor and being humiliated.
It has been a good writing day. bits of writing fused and made pages. I printed out and counted. I saw a little long view and the book looked like it was going to be a ball made of several different earthy colors of clay– gray clay, red clay, green clay, brown clay– and then it was going to be like the earth spinning fast like a globe, blurring its continents ie contents. I thought maybe the book will just have space breaks with titles, not chapters, like the apocalypses but each section twenty pages, I’m going for exactly. I listed the colors of the clay: privacy and forms of physical and psychic containment; chemical forces of the body and ideas of nature; being trapped in your own experience—the fundamental concern of fiction–in the face of those you love or want to love, in your country and within your paltry knowledge of the world.