Someone asked me yesterday how long I would be keeping this diary, and I told them that I didn’t know, but that, at this moment, I wanted to keep it as long as I could, though when this person asked me why I wanted to do this, I didn’t have an answer, so that we’d begun to talk of other things, though after we’d parted, and I’d found myself on the train, and the train was moving through the tunnel in the subway, so that I had nothing to think about except that which had been on my mind, I realized that I did have an answer, and that the answer had to do with the passing of time, though it also had to do with the way I experienced the passing of time, so that I couldn’t say there was one definitive answer, though I could say there wasn’t any old answer, and that some answers were more true than others.