14th March 2012
Dear Mr Warren,
I am only ever sad when I finish something, when the time is over for that activity and it becomes dead to everything but reflection. Melancholy is produced when one gives over to one’s decadent passion to reflect obsequiously, perversely even. These memories are useless unless they are technical, (and technique is its own sort of memory anyway,) and should form no part of the current construction unless by way of a reinvention, unless with a certain vigour and aggression.
Sincerely,
The Abministrator