One way I might attempt to impose a false but reassuring structure on the turbid miasma of emotional states, pseudo-events, and scattered thoughts that constitute my life is to imagine that one day someone will write my biography. In reality no one will ever write my biography or have any occasion to write my biography, but there is value in pretending otherwise, because it makes me a character in a story in a way, and people have certain conventional expectations about characters in stories. I will need to settle once and for all on a coherent backstory for my character (me) and come up with some relatively stable and understandable (if not sympathetic) motivations and desires and aspirations, elements which more or less fit together like a puzzle with very little troubling surplus. This is a welcome relief, let me tell you, as I am getting pretty tired of thinking things that go nowhere, of experiencing feelings and emotions that bubble up as if from the depths of some gurgling cauldron of mystery only to disappear again just as randomly. Now I can't do that because the average reader has only so much patience for red herrings and pointless asides. Respect for the reader, that's my ticket out of this mess.