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.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
i'll be in lake placid til sunday night. mid 70s during the day and mid 50s during the night. sounds good to me. just letting you know cuz i knew you'd be worried. have good weekends.
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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