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"too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and i don't know where to begin but i want to try."

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


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.

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