What is breathing anymore?
He was in my dream last night. Lots of other people were in other ones too, but I only care about him. Now I've spent the greater part of this morning wondering if his body looks the same, if he's a good kisser, if he's a good lover, if he would make love to me, if I really want it.
It's not a matter of time, but caring.
The words are mocking me. White blank screen.
What about Virginia Woolf's ghosts? What could I possibly say?
a few bits of nonsense from my journal.