I am distracted by myself. I am a distraction to my self. Myself is distracted by its others. My others are distracted by my self. Myself distracts others. I distract others when I am my self.
February 28 2008
In passing I have dreamt this familiarity, and still now, I see I know I’d like even more a kiss to you, but I, I am breathless.
March 14 2008
“You are too much.” That I am, but then also, it is likely that I am less of others and somethings too.
March 19 2008
The magnitude of what I feel is nothing short of a commitment to a certain color of thought, a shade of humanity, an exploration through traveling towards youth less awareness. It is an investment in a study. Surely by the aging of experience, other studies will be brought into being and it is then that I will be devoted to another area of feelings, another training in time.
March 27 2008
Let us find ourselves again comfortable in silence. Our bodies arranged in an entanglement and then fixed in some sleepy pose where our figures are woven to each other’s. I want to fall asleep inside a bear hug and if I awaken be able to tangle the crazy curls. I miss my partner. He had the softest lips and a mouth that spoke only of dreams. But he is, here, prevailing in memory and never ceasing to exist. Simply still, I miss kisses consuming lips, the relationship with romance and the inexhaustible fascination that made this love distinguishable.
April 3 2008
I have no secrets—only questions I have yet to be asked or stories I have not found the chance to tell. With time and curiosity, everything can be known.
April 4 2008
Yesterday I was given a paintbrush for putting on my face. At night I went walking through Manhattan’s maze. I was wearing a nightgown over a black winter coat and eating a pear when a man with his dog said hello and told me I looked healthy, “just like spring.” I laughed, revealing to him the secret of my nightwear. “I like it. You look fresh.”
April 6 2008
Write around me. Have this—whatever you end on doing—not be about me. When you begin, am I there, as you write around me? Well, have me go away. Look at me and have me vanish so you see you can look at me no more. Now, what is it all about? Does it make sense, without me being there? If you can feel it, then I probably have not yet gone. Make me go.
April 12 2008
You are here, but I was not just expecting you. Can I come again later? I do not know if I will be ready for you. When will you know? After it is over and once it no longer is. Then I will not come back if you are to want me only when I am not with you to enjoy it. You have the advantage. At least you know now. I always have to wait till after.
April 28 2008
How can I explain myself? One cannot. I have a lifetime worth of mindful material to work with but I cannot write forever. And if I could and would what will happen when I have died? Will someone continue explaining myself then? Oh I cannot possibly trust such happenings. I cannot explain…
April 29 2008
Perhaps we are the main characters in the dreams of others. I feel I have been such and imagine I have done the same to another.
April 30 2008
I have retired into the ink of the night. And here, I have written within darkness on the black face of reality.
May 3 2008
Of course, I would never go as far as saying I am lie. But I do admit that I become something other. Maybe it is someone more than just a past self. Or further more, maybe when writing, I go behind memory and beyond time and become an existence for the future reader or reactor or, blatantly, a reminder for my future self.
May 6 2008
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