I can be lost for days, struggling to even hold the pen because my hands are made of soil, and then finally I’ll give in, start watching a documentary about Manny Pacquiao through half-closed eyelids, and suddenly it explodes into the room and I feel it break across me. Sometimes when it comes on strong like that, after an absence of days or weeks, it makes me cry. I sit and write in tears. I don’t know why. Nothing’s wrong! It’s like I’ve crested a hill that I’ve been climbing for ever, and I finally get to see the valley beyond.
