I think it’s punk rock to not have comments. I really like your excerpt and yes I’m a sale. Some of the trouble with comments is that everyone wants to relate it to themselves, though it’s not them.

For example, I just noticed that Jack Kerouac never seemed to drive, you made it noticed. I lost my driver’s license about 3 years ago for getting drunk and driving into a street, and I literally can’t call to start getting it back, I freeze.

And revise it so that I would have wound up getting killed by a semi say yesterday in say Minnesota but really you just notice more without it, there’s a road inside the highway. And I think by now if I were behind the wheel with a license I’d be wondering what it would be like to be able to say I didn’t have a driver’s license. What I mean is I think you should drive, it’s fun.

I’d like to be able to recite by memory a funeral elegy about age, age 22 specifically, really a beautiful speech on quality quantity, the periodical irrelevance of a number, but I can’t do it, I’m 21.

About depression I might be getting fragmented understanding from the outside c/o antidepressants but I also knocked on wood.

Emailing you any more runs the risk of ingratiating myself needlessly, I just wanted to say “cool”.

Sincerely, Ryan