sometimes I look back and think 'wow, could I have really written that?' other times I do realize it proves nothing than the most solipsistic of points, internal coherence, I shit and I eat and nothing too much has really changed. and other other times I just sit back and look at the characters drift past my eyes and I still think in wonder, oh yes, oh yes:
Any thought that takes the form of "I wish I could dot dot dot (...)" is really this, shrouded in language that hints otherwise. The question is of granularity, resolution. The minimum unit of a resolution of action is a finger twitch, a minuscule quantum of resolve. Climbing up constructed from a series of muscle movements.