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9:41 p.m. - March 12, 2002 I say that, but it's a lie. I crave disruption, distraction, anything that's a change, different, as long as it's short of meltdown and as I write that I think that's not too far off so perhaps I've overindulged the craving. But that's not true. I've been shutting down instead of coming unglued so perhaps that's what I crave. I don't know. I don't want to talk to people, I don't want to write either here or anywhere else, I don't want to argue or hang out and be silent. I want to check into a rest area and smell the eucalyptus trees and think about things, but that's not what I need. I need to do the opposite--think less, action more. The letter from UW is here and the letter from Georgetown arrived yesterday. I haven't opened either one yet. Confident as usual on the outside yet on the inside I wonder if they know how much I've fallen apart. I feel gray. Not half white, half black, but the corpsish variety.
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