Feb 4, 2002
I've barely had a moment today to feel much of anything, although there are certainly things that want for feeling. I feel them beginning to flood in now. Now that I am alone and quiet and able to think clearly. I feel the passage of time. I feel the vastness of space. I feel my separateness with more distinct clarity than I ever have before. I feel a weightiness in my heart that could easily be confused with a hunger in my tummy. I feel reluctance. I feel insignificant and mighty all at once. And I feel curious about what is to come.
I had hoped to spend time tonight with an old friend. Instead, I will do some more catching up with my cousin and perhaps have some stories to tell on my return. Linguini is in my future. It is the only thing of which I can be certain.
posted by Mary Forrest at 7:49 PM | Back to Monoblog