I don't have it in me to be a writer like that:

splurging raw truth out on the page, gritted through my teeth, down to the wire, and then the airwaves. I just don't work like that.

I work the truth, but not the conversion of truth in thought into the Symbolic truth conveyed by words. Our communication system just isn't adequate. But what's the answer to this problem?

Music.

Yes. "I've Seen All Good People: Your Move"

I let myself sink into that and turn inside out.

I've never really seen myself as a musician. The cliche is spit out everywhere: Music is the universal language. So is math. They are the same, just viewed through different lenses. But the more I think about it, the more I know that music really is my forte. It's the only place I completely get lost and release myself from the weight of human triviality. No thought involved. No initiation. Just instantaneous holiday.

Give me some soma, Aldous. Headphones and a recording. Check, check. Just for the heck of it, a notebook and a pen. A blank screen and a keyboard. Check, check, check. I'm set.