Stevens again.

Stevens smacked against his own fear of style. He'd gone away to learn but come home empty handed.
"Where have you been?" we asked him.
"Nowhere," he said.
"What have you done?" we asked.
"Nothing," he said.
And we left the whole matter there, hanging between us all. Of course, when I look back I see we should have acted differently, more artistically. We were so young, so unsure of ourselves.

Ah well.

I'll tell you what's irritating. I have this picture of something I want to say, I have a vague feeling of how I want it to sound, an emotion I want to weave in - but the moment I try to write the words they fall apart around each other and the result is just another scrap in the grey.
What'll I do?

Get by on nuts and berries mate, maybe fish a little. Your spectacled hypocrisy is driving me insane. Get out of my sight.

Yikes.