voiding my bladder I think:

Sometimes, sometimes when I start to write the core of the essay, the center of cohesion that I try to curl the paper around, I start out by writing a very simple formal description, then moving forward, and in a purely aesthetic fashion creating a sequence of words that is appealing for its cadence, its structure, the formation of words in a structure of a thesis. I then look back on this pretty structure and I ask myself -- do I believe in this? If so, it stays. Usually, I don't, and I change it, again following aesthetic arguments and structures, ask myself this question, arrive at this space until I read an argument that I wholly agree with. In this way I am always following aesthetics, the curling linear logic of parataxis and syntax, stepping off when I happen to arrive at a destination.

In mathematics, this would be the sieve method of finding prime numbers.

Whenever it happens nicely I am always pleasantly surprised, caught unawares, finding these sensible yet interesting arguments developing under my fingers. No doubt this probably contributes to some notion that what I am saying is true, really true, and so fuels my essay further with the compressed fossilized fuels of problematics and positivism, the separation of the subjective author from the argument as evidence for the facticity of the argument, et cetera..