Monthly Archive: November 2006

The mirror. The mirror doesn’t know you.

Quiet relief that the weekend is over. Platinum light gone down and gone down early.

I like the sensation of a loose form. Three pages at a sitting. Or thirteen fragments. Or fifty words. I feel safer. Enclosed. I’m in a quieter, less hysterical space.

The beginnings are slow and primordial.

Do I feel threatened All-the-Time? Do I think if I weaken myself, I’ll go undetected, and not draw the attention of predators? I don’t know.

The persistent sadness. The sadness of short sentences. The sadness of employees. The sadness of elderly eyebrows. The sadness of muted achievements. Of not knowing your place. The bewilderment of multiple remotes.