I wonder about my writing. Have you ever had the indescribable feeling you were being laughed at? Perhaps that is why I laugh – so their laughter will seem intended. …my sister once said she liked – or appreciated – my e-mails to her because it was “the only time she got to hear my voice”… But is it my voice – more true than my audible one? Or is the projection of myself which I want people to see – something my artistry has fabricated? But is that not why writers can sound such depths- endlessly create – and are their creations not, to say the least, reflections of their innermost selves? If this were an e-mail – I would now waver between sending and deleting. And I hope you are not laughing at me.