10:28 p.m. - January 20, 2003
So. Where do I go from here? Go implies Newton and his high falutin' ideas and I'm uninterested in push-pull efects and acceleration and basic laws, more interested in how to keep the roof over my head from falling in. I want to cry but any liquid would be crocodile tears and those are wasted unless before company and this afternoon went into the backyard for no special reason and I found in the bed under the bay window many green shoots, either the tulips daffodils those other bulbs I don't know the names of and I was bothered, how did they escape my gaze, as if I have to see everything that goes on in order for it to be palpable, register as real. I'm wrapped up by nothing that everything passes me by, just like scratching my desk while trying to remove the fingerprint smudges that I couldn't take any longer. Yes, scratched the desk and who in their right mind buys a glass desk anyways and why write about glass desks and smudges and scratches when my head spins because I'm angry at myself for no good reason that I can determine and feeling utterly alone and I think over and over like a Buddhist chant How has it come to this? How? And yes even the petulant cry, Why me? Why me? and then I think this, all of this, this big empty house nobody enters that scares me at night with rooms I don't go into because there is no need, only to sweep the floors or check for the unknown lurking - lurking where, there is little furniture, no closet doors, no bric-a-brac to hide behind - and I pat myself on the back thinking Yes this house is worth a fortune and it is mine, others have big TVs and fancy cars but not me, I have a house and huge lawns front and back and a thick door and how smart of me to invest, how capable, how mature grown up solid sensible an achievement but it isn't security, it's a liability, something else to worry about when I intended for it to be more than a roof over my head and yes, I feel sorry for myself that I gave up Dana for Spec and when, when will I get over this and find my map again? I'm here as we all are as the consequences of actions, still ponds ruptured by the drop from above and you've seen the picture and unbelievable I thought for a moment tiny feet were running over my roof but it's only the rain and a strong one at that.
No more writing with my eyes shut and the lights off, such strange things float through my mind.