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, January 20, 2004
tonight frenchy and i missed dinner at the DC, so we made our first meal in our kitchen and it was wonderful. chips and salsa and frozen pizza. we're quite the suzy homemakers.
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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