Exorcism by Iteration / Sarcasm

Looking back at the countless discarded iterations of the work in progress, one thing is clear: much of my effort has been focused on the exorcism of sarcasm and the simmering resentment towards the place I call home. Earlier drafts were written in a different headspace: I only saw the present as an amalgamation of the past and the perception of returning to this place as failure; I failed to see it for what it is. This normally would be the place that I would pontificate on what, precisely, “it” is, but I don’t know: maybe that’s the whole point of writing the book, to explore the question and deliver myself a dosage of understanding that makes my existence here more (present) / (tolerable) / (resembling a life) / (all of the above).