The book rolls forward at its own rate, acting as a black hole that sucks into it everything I think, witness, overhear and see on TV. Today, instead of trying to perfect each paragraph before I moved forward, I thought, ‘Fuck this! I’ll keep barrelling on.’ Hours passed in big bursts and I ended up with seven pages of stuff I could never have foreseen or invented. Reeled back to V’s with sore eyes and an empty head. This must be how it’s done—take your foot off the brake, unpurse the lips and see where it takes you.