What does one write at 2.54 in the morning? And what does one remember?
MK used to say, a mask worn long enough becomes the face. Fine, but what becomes of the face?
Phoebe is getting married on the 23rd. Hasn't sunk in. Nothing seems to sink in. As if there is no 'in' for anything to sink in.
Everything has changed as if I was away for a century. Everyone has changed, as of they are all reborn as somebody else.
I feel like Rip Van Winkle. God! I had just dozed off in the hills. When did all this happen - back in the village?
Sunday, October 21, 2007
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