"Invisible Cities"

Have you read Italo Calvino's "Invisible Cities?" I don't rmbr the essay well--was it a prose/poem? It is about entering a city that has been deserted, you follow the threads and webs that the ex-citizens have built and connected from place to place, building to building. Where have the citizens gone and will they come back? Who will answer the questions of the archeologist? The answer is no, nobody.

This is how I feel about returning to my essay and revising. I don't rmbr well and why and what I wrote. From first glance, I can only see the superficial threads and webs and excrement left behind. If only I can go beyond and reach into the essay, digging for the treasures buried before the revolution, before the war, before the violence.

I rmbr having been proud of the essay and that it was good. But returning to an abandoned essay, a completed essay, is like returning to an ex-love, is like returning to an imperfect past, which is all past. I superficially skim a few sentences and lines. All I can see are a few buzz words, and how the essay tries so hard; it tries so hard to be good; it tries so hard to please. So hard, is it sincere?