Silence. The event of the day:
B appeared, I unable to act, she left. So [I] wrote. I don't want to be unkind. I don't want to be paralyzed. For the time being, am playing in the odd and broken, disconnected world I've been given such license in.
I've not heard back from her. So much about my actions here feel slightly off and inappropriate. I may be an explorer. Maybe no one's been this way before. In fact, no one has.
I can't appreciate having the whole thing here. But here's a core:
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Maybe you understand why this is so hard. You're raw on your pages [and you have no dates to show a developmental progression, a leaving behind; for the new reader of you everything can appear current]. I am [raw, uncut, simple] on mine [but so voluminous as to be obscure--not like your manageable site]. [And we have possibly compl[e]mentary however misplaced desire?] Never have met another like you [/me in that way]?
and, yes, I may even be publishing this email and examining it later, making some attempt to understand.
but, just giving up to that greater compelling power--questioning ends [stops], action occurs.
thank you [B] for so much disturbing me--
No need to reply. Who knows what to say, do next? Maybe nothing. You can see now why I so avoid this--devoid of interpersonal context--telepathic gambling. [where I am so reflexively unrestrained. But I see some function in that lack of restraint.]
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this should be just between me and her.
there is other news. Avoided work on references. But there are no distractions left, I believe. Tomorrow, god willing.
rested much of day (1230-4?).
wrote peer.
NF fiddling with powerpoint, visited her after walk to SDSU and back.
Imagine it will be time to head out soon? How long can I accept the way I live now?
peace, (and the non-peace of creative love and life)
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