—-There are certain lines of thought that cannot even be pursued, and the further ideas likely encountered in that pursuit given a chance to exist, much less be articulated, unless one writes them down and deals with them in the act of writing. I am constantly having to put off the inquiry into this or that, something glimpsed, something brushed up against, something tugging at me, because I can see right away that it is impossible to explore, except by thinking it out right on the page, performing it, so to speak, exploring and subduing and refining all at once in order to pound out  just the  semblance of a rough, but promising beginning. And the thing is, I don’t feel like doing that at the moment. In spite of my inspiration, I am accosted by lethargy and even dread. In fact, I rarely feel like immediately working on them, it seems, at the time when these ideas occur.  It seems I spend very little time actually doggedly working out these all important themes which, I reckon, could easily break through into realms so far hidden from any investigator . . . such as myself–who, in spite of my incompetence, remains on constant alert.  What I do is refer them to later, and then lurch at them again.
—–Of course this, this instant fatigue in the face of a foreboding task, is another subject which has its own difficulty! The subject of why I don’t feel like pursuing, most of the time, exactly what it appears I should be pursuing . . . ah, this too is making me wince, and look for a way to escape. I shouldn’t have mentioned it! It is like a spiral . . .
—–But the initial point was not this cowardice, but the real clash of milieus, or moods. It is the fact that there are certain topics which one cannot just tamely and rationally sort out–but one must perform them on the page. One must be an orator, in order to shout down objections,  get through confusions, and reach the ecstatic plateau, to see and describe the vista.  One must get creative with the language, wrestle with the sentences, get tangled up in the grammar, etc.  And what I am saying is that I am rarely, hardly ever, in the mood, because it is daytime and this is a thought for the night, or vice versa! And if I was wrong about that, because here is the day and it still seems implausible and difficult, well at least I jotted it down. Night and day, that will keep you spinning.