Friday, February 20, 2009


My wrists hurt. I’m sick of talking about how my wrists hurt. I’m sick of thinking why did I put that piece of art in the frame, that’s what hurt my wrists. Or: why did I read too many pages? Or: why did I make that lostmissing poster, that’s what hurt my hands. The front door lock, it’s stuck -- can’t they fix that fucking lock, that’s why my arms are a disaster! Or: never mind. Maybe I need to take a shower to relax my body, although yesterday I realized I hold my shoulders up in the shower and that ends up hurting more. I was just glad to hear the word atheist, Katia on the phone saying she wants to review the psalms she just read the psalms for the first time, but as an atheist. People don’t use that word enough, anymore.

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