Week ending August 8
Not even sure what I'm supposed to be processing.
I love how I think my way out of a depression.
Discovering a silver watch.
"I believe in the rising window."
Everything discolored.
Jersey knit sheets.
Honeymoon is over.
Based on my recent non-interest in my previous self, pretty sure my future self will be completely uninterested in this present self.
In the giving away mood.
Even though what's going to happen is not what's going to happen.
I could be happy with simply ice cream.
The typewriter is a harpsichord.
Despair covers everything.
If we talked about it, maybe it would dissipate.
Keep forgetting when my appointments are.
Hope of a future hope.
A love letter misinterpreted as ordinariness.
If a cup of tea could change your life.
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About Diary of a 36th Year
I started writing in a paper journal right after my 36th birthday in October, 2008; it has become a collage of scrapbooking, diary writing, a lady's common place book, printed out web articles and blog entries, photos and pictures, poems, dreams, emails, lists, receipts, found items... What is excerpted here is the less embarrassing, and more textual fragments thereof.
Never, never forgetting Anais Nin, with an eye toward Joanne Kyger's journals & journal poems, and remembering Virginia Woolf's insistence that everything must be documented, the diary blog is a palimpsest of new narrative, old narrative, and post modern collage styles.
Updated every Sunday.
Never, never forgetting Anais Nin, with an eye toward Joanne Kyger's journals & journal poems, and remembering Virginia Woolf's insistence that everything must be documented, the diary blog is a palimpsest of new narrative, old narrative, and post modern collage styles.
Updated every Sunday.
