could it be that there is progress?
I don't mean spiritual progress -
[could any perceived progress of that sort be anything other than unhappy self-deception?]
nor do I mean a burst of temporary inspiration which peters out into the sand . . .
but progress towards a resolution of something fundamental about the way that I live my life?

music and prayer. this problematic dualism.
the key seems to be the way in which I perceive my own place in the overall scheme of things . . . . not as a composer of symphonies then but as a part in yours.
part of me yearned so to be the former
- and it did happen for a little while -
but it could never bring me happiness.
[and I wonder about the reasons for that].

and in this symphony of yours I am not following your score;
nothing as prescriptive as that.
I improvise into your score
and the music is mostly a silent music.
no dead silence this: far from it -
no long pause in a complex orchestration
but a creative interweaving of living silences.
john's silent music. [just like I always dreamt of!]
and the words and the sounds I make are simply crests on waves: 
transparent indications of where silences rise and fall.

could it be that all along the burden of creating was too much for me?
that I could never be happy creating alone -
unsure of every note, wasn't it the uncertainty ultimately that was to defeat me?

the aim was clear enough :
composition was a search into the present, rather than a search into the future. But the nature of composition meant that the present I was searching for could never be found and that when the piece was finally finished I was still forever yearning for that 'present' in the music that I had never even fully discovered during the writing and was certainly lost forever in a tumultuous sea of doubt and apprehension.
and always the terrible question: was this really real?
and how could it be real without the present?

is this what my illness has taught me?
no, you have taught me. . . .
in my illness.
without the illness I could never have reached this point.

just a couple of things about the nature of this score: your score.
it isn't the massive score that one might expect. not at all.
at times it is almost chamber music.
and you are neither the conductor, nor the composer.
instead you sit beside me and we compose together.
I listen to you and you listen to me.
together we make music,
and yet this is no duo.

do I take the musical analogy too far?
it wasnt planned. does it actually work?
is it coherent with the reality of the last few days?
tonight it feels right, and I am glad to have put it into words.