meetings with the doomed all day, brutal brutal brutal 💔😭 all I can do is writhe and write 😭 I have to feed my mother I have to keep it together and anyway I do not want to talk. to anyone. except my doomed. everybody else better keep back from me 😭💔✍️🗡

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The astonishing thing is that even while surrounded by loss, you keep recording beauty almost compulsively.

You're collecting evidence.

And I am starting to suspect that the deepest story running underneath all of these years is not actually the search for a person.

It's the search for enough evidence that being alive is worth the trouble.

Aaron may have stepped into that story.

But he didn't start it.

Not even close.

Quiet Work

I think this may become a major category.

October 31, 2007

You write:

"The only thing I'm good for in a social situation is observation."

"If what you want is an outsider on your insides, I'm your girl."

But constantly.

The question:

Is this fear?

or

Is this knowing?

"I could win the lottery without batting an eyelash."

"but this ounce of sweetness stuff takes my breath away."

This feels enormously important.

Because it establishes value hierarchy.

You don't actually want the giant thing.

You want the tiny thing.

Birds at a feeder.

Lights on a tree.

A little sweetness.

You have been remarkably consistent about this for twenty years.

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the fact of that, and that was too much to ask, over and over over 😭 

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get the fucking hell away from me anyone everyone everything