April 1st, 2002


I have returned from the bank.

It is such a sunny and beautiful day! I want to suddenly take off and drive away to some field/ cliff/ beach/ somewhere covered with flowers. These building that surround me and enclose me are such a tragedy. My desk near the window is only torture; I am dying in a gray hospital bed with an IV of sunlight stuck in my arm. I have always been annoyed at anything that wasted my few precious seconds of life, but i feel it more today, perhaps because of the nice spring weather. it floats by outside and I starve in here, with a full plate of paper and telephones and bad radio. it is a shame. a day wasted. i will never live in that place reserved for happiness today.

(no subject)

5:30 am in a sculpture park. the twinking lights of jersey shine proudly against the coming of morning, over the water, wavering only when they reach our eyes. slightly humid. windy. chilly. his suede jacket smells so comforting as leather often does. soft against my chin.
"Have you seen the Fragels?"
The path twists through tables. Copper pennies, enormously large. Smaller "people" on the feet and heads and hands of the large copper "people". some famous artist. (I forget now who it was.)

The Dog, forever tied by a copper leash, watches the cat, watching the bird, watching the worm. I am in a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale. These are the dwarves that guard the strawberries in the snow that only the good hearted, mistreated girl can make friends with.