It's been all about loss. Loss of vision, loss of the future i thought I held in my hand. I lost my footing and fell down the hill. Tumbling tumbling, toes over teakettle, or however the expression goes.
And now here i am. It's March. I'm working on my third novel in a line of proudly unpublished novels. I am in my robe. I have to go to work in an hour, to make lattes, to mop a floor, to make change and be polite.
I have a pile of unwashed dishes. My sink keeps clogging. It's sunny here where I live. It's always sunny here where I live. I am afraid of my own eyes and what they might do.
Everything has changed.
Posted by Trissy at Marzo 16, 2004 11:52 AMTrissy,
Guess who? Me, Sean! Remember? Class rooms in circles with freaky S/M professor in sunglasses? Weirdo writers-to-be with their long, unending novels? Beers at ... I forget where but I think you know where?
It's weird, I didn't expect to learn about your life since October 2003, but such was the case as I hopped around on the internet, typing in people's names, curious what would happen. I typed in yours and a bunch of stuff came up, including this journal. Hope you don't mind but I read through some of it.
How've you been? Write me back at my address when you can. I'd really like to hear from you. It's been a while since I've kept any kind of correspondence, so this might be a good opportunity.
Ghost from the Past
s.kim
Posted by: Sean Kim at Marzo 17, 2004 09:52 PM