I can't say it like I write it...I can't write it like I think it...I can't think it like I feel it...and I don't feel a thing.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
i just had week-old leftovers of a dish that i dont think would have been any better if i had eaten it the first time it was served. something about the world kielbasa makes me queasy from the get-go.
He heard the words drag out. He felt them pull out of his mouth like freight cars, jangling, backing up on each other, grating to a halt, sliding, clinching back, jarring, and then suddenly stopping as roughly as they had begun. It was over. --Flannery O'Connor, "The Barber"
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