4:37 p.m. - July 09, 2004
Iím closer to 30 than 25 now and I wonder, I pray and I yell and I want to know for sure if I get to live the way I want to live. I donít want much, just a footbridge across this chasm between Me and the outside. Writing a book is easier than going out to coffee with a guy who thinks Iím cute. I donít understand why and pep talks about being happy the way I am, of finding a nobler purpose to life, or getting off my ass and doing something all make sense and are as meaningful as charging someone to clear the beach of sand with a paper cup.
It isnít self-pity but something deeper. Itís the electrical grid that powers the lights around me, brilliant and beautiful and enthralling, like gazing in wonder as at a museum object. Admiring from afar is the closest one gets. This is how it is for me, even though I know the image is wickedly distorted.