I find it fascinating, the way writers can categorise their lives and feelings by what they write, how often, for what purpose. Boyer utilises this necessity, as a writer, to understand oneself through writing, and breathes creativity into it, and deliberately politicises it because, of course, writing is more political than anything else. I could certainly read this again, it's hard to keep a grip on for the way it slips between styles and forms but it explains itself and is in incredibly thought provoking.

There is in not writing not very much time spent on envy which is a pang, mostly, which is motivating like getting a buzz from an outlet telling one to remove one's hand from the outlet, from the power source. There is the way that the lives of others seem so often unenviable and only enviable as they are 'writing' when all this time is spent not writing like right now in the not writing in which I should be dealing with bills, mail, laundry, my bedroom, months of emails from October onward even though it is now June, with my jobs, with care, with the contents of my refrigerator, with friendship, with my body which wants to get in the swimming pool with my body which wants to turn brown in the sun with my body which wants to drink some tea with my body which wants to do shoulder presses which wants to join a gym which wants to take a shower and get cleaned up which wants a lover which mostly wants to swim and then there is 'not writing'. There is envy which is also mixed with repulsion at those who do not have a long list of not writing to do.