THIS IS THE EIGHTH ATTEMPT no help coming from my former self trying harder is no help trying to forget about it the same for there can be no end to trying that has always been what I am like I don't know what I would find at the end of trying someone I am not yet I guess what comes easily as it comes easily remains the least mine I can do nothing about this but rely on what I know and what I know is that words are both thing and idea or neither idea nor thing I know they don't love themselves they love whatever they are not I know I am writing to you always to you or towards you for what you can make of it (everything) and I know where you are is where who I am not yet rests I know at birth the words were stacked within me and I keep reaching lower and to the side and there's no way to reach bottom I am always finding ending behind ending ever after ever