8:20 p.m. - August 14, 2004
Life was easier when I had control. Disconcerting to see where my mind drifts. Brad's concern was legitimate and I fought his insights not because I'm in denial but because it hurt to see these myriad issues stacked up like illustrations of the earth's crust in vibrant reds, oranges, and browns. A direct hit on these coping mechanisms would strike the I-am-an-island like S & G heralded and I'd open up to people, relish the slings and arrows alongside that peace and reassurance I imagine comes with sincere interaction between people. Place, in other words, for friends, a permanent lodging instead of a dock in the middle of the lake.
Last night I dreamed my father came into my backyard and systematically removed every plant and bush, leaving piles of brown dirt. He operated slyly, and I repeatedly turned around thinking I was sure there had been a plant where my eyes fell on bare ground. Shortly before I woke my dream self was standing in the middle of a brown desert wondering whether the daffodils would bloom, or had he dug into the ground to remove the bulbs as well.
Tonight I am reading papers and watching TV. It's a nice evening, for what it's worth.