stations of the body.

Each month she waited for blood, a sign she was still alive. She had no mind for a child yet, being she was still one herself. And a child cannot care for another child. But maybe accidents change you over night, create you out of time, make you wake with a new life where your role is Other.

• I can't keep from listening to Chad VanGaalen. I am learning that when my mind won't focus on text it is better to leave literature bookmarked and turn on music. It is a product of the most intoxicating senses. Its effect overwhelms me, but in doing so helps me forget the pressure I constantly face to write, to find a story I can feel, but I am not a storyteller. I care about essences - what one does not perceive to be present because it has not yet been absent - what one has not identified he appreciates because he is too far past assuming it will always be alive. 
• A great writer must be a poet thinker -Jacques Derrida.