The accountable journal. Believe it or not, I am still thinking about who the narrator is or could or should be. But none of my hesitations or doubts can stop the story from being told. (oops, this is not that file. But what does it matter? I have to just come out and admit it, I want to write every day as a way to de-clutter my mind. I can’t “force” myself to produce something “worth” reading for someone else. But I can keep a promise made to myself to allow myself to allow the words to flow regularly. As soon as I cover “allow to flow” I immediately think of menstrual periods and the stress, horror, shame, pain, inconvenience and dread they caused. Until they didn’t. Part of me wants to write “that” story, write everything concerning menstrual periods I experienced in my life. Then another story could be sex. Sexual arousal. Sexual satisfaction (what??? I wrote that because those two words are so often used together and because it is more satisfying to write “sexual satisfaction” than to write “sexual frustration” and I think oh my god how the words I write manipulate me, have an effect on me and I feel suffocated and yet isn’t this a slight chink of enlightenment? Not only can I force (entice, allow) myself to write every day but I could also influence the words I write to influence how I feel. Short circuit!!! I feel as if I had never imagined that possibility, of writing for myself, because it is selfish and greedy and ultimately incestuous?