I can't. You have never.... Sleepily I belong to you. Goodbye -- wait -- ...of which you are not your brother every, every minute you clear your throat I cease to be a woman I am your sister --switch-- but you cannot... to think the way of life never departs we shall have to return to this point here, this century, revolving. We tend not toward love it will not switch. Stay where you are! Here you're safe. I had given up the comfort and security of my known home; I dove into early morning today scared half to death, turning around and turning... I can not hold you, us. Please do not change this image of a line, a figure. Our line now has abstracted itself into a nightmare rocking me most of the day, haunting.... I'm sorry, I said over and over. We had no interest in that strange sense of turning returning but all we want was to return. It's way beyond you. She hesitates, does not hate. I am in fact fifteen, browsing slowly an array of emotions. There are some things I do not remember photographs of what is no longer. How many times I have become a profile of myself, for all my efforts I still have been put between certainty and oblivion in boxes or fears. It's like you're explaining everything to me strangely. What if I love you? I am sorry I am sorry I am sorry I almost felt awkward wishing.... never mind, I was only joking. Stop.
30 September 1999