Fictional Eyes

So, last night was kind of weird and I feel bad about calling GoldenFinch like that, but I feel so sick about Ps late breaking news and all that I was talking about yesterday... I should really just forget about it... And then my uneasiness about G's ballot and remembering that nausea of the Merrick car ride of hundreds of years ago...

Anyway, the end of the evening was just so indicative of everything-- EVERYTHING!

The taxi and the care and my twisting ankles trailed by pity and a feigned stroke. And the corner snowman and my timidity and her enigma made me realize that the image was swallowed long ago... Long ago...

Anyway, in class, must go.

-H-

(Hist USSR)

*************************************

Anyway, later at at B's and I look in the mirror and my eyes sag, but my skin is smooth and bright and flawless and rosy. But my eyes-- shot and rimmed in grayish red and I wonder if I can possibly realize that these kinds of physical harms can not be undone-- EVER.

(But eternity is such a hard thing to take seriously... especially at 2:50 AM on a Thursday night)...

And I wonder what the hell I think I am doing or am trying to start with all of this fiction... fiction... fiction... God damn it, I lost myself long ago.