thirty one volumes ────────────────── act one: a versus b ─────────────────── a is myself; b is the psychologist when one goes though literature, themes come up how inescapable they are; from love to lust, without them, text would be monotone; monochromatic; so devoid of anything, it would be not much at all myself and the psychologist waring through things everything should be social commentary without it: it would be more dull than middle grey remember the bluebells in the forest; do not let the plot breathe scene one: detail ───────────────── a: the dust at the bottom of the bucket of coal: no one talks of that, or the yoghurt pouring onto the padding of the nappy in the bin the flavour of the yoghurt is toffee the padding is yellow orange from the baby girl or the mints in the glass in the restaurant that are free after the meal or the dots of the nipples of someone contrasting the lines of nipples of my mother or her extra large clitoris coated in semen b: detail is important but do not get lost in it: as it is the substance that matters most you must transcend youself; refuse offers of devilish notions at times, art can be inflated, do not fall into that trap the composition must be balanced otherwise, it would be one sided detail is important: but the main line is what it is at