There’s a tendency to be profound, or to want to seem profound, not all the time in my writings but in these ISS journal-writings, anyway. But there’s no need. I mean, no moment needs to be any more profound than any other. I’m tempted to say profundity is just a mood, an attitude, like any other mood/tone/attitude that a text writer could take — maybe acknowledging the writer
([student] R__ V___ just asked if he can get a 5-minute break “because we’ve been writing so much” [the in-school suspension punishment includes hand-copying rules from the student handbook] — [student] C___ S____’s been writing all hour, but R___ didn’t get here and start writing ’til 10-12 minutes ago.)
(Papa had his sleep test yesterday — Monday–Tuesday morning, he said. He said he didn’t go to sleep Monday night ’til —no, he woke up about 11 and stayed awake, thinking of all he’s gotta do, he said: get his driver’s license renewed, work on an old truck of Eric’s that Papa and Bruce will share, etc.)
[continued from the end of the first paragraph above] that profoundity (yes, profundity) is better when it seems something innate to the writer or the text, and not a choice.
[From school journal of “Weds., I think, 21 Sept. 2016, 2:03-04 p.m., In-School Suspension Room C105, ISS-labeled pencil,” Journal 238]