April 7, 2004
Each day that passes, each minute, second, brings little hope, cheer, little inner melody, inner expansion, little reason for jubilation. There is no time for anything. The clocks have sped up to make life tiring and jarring and stale. This is how it is when all your life your shoes are too tight and you have to wear eyeglasses. This is why sleep is a sweet release and sleepwalking would be out of the question. All I really need right now is 75 words not 100. With 75 there would be time for a quick sketch of shoes and eyeglasses.