March 8th, Year Three

Some people want to change, while I want to change back. Josefina the Dishwasher cut my hair. I look as I always do, which is a disappointment. I hoped to reach into the past and bring it forward, but a haircut is not a time machine. So, I sent Jeannine another e-mail, but she is not a time machine, either. I await her response, the way children await bedtime. It was a mistake, much like every decision I have made as of late.

I know so much about others, and nothing of my own composition. Jeremy was born October 3rd. He paints houses, and lives in San Ramon. His exact address is known to me. Every facial expression he has ever made, I know the emotions that formed them, and the secrets they hold.

Marissa, second child to an unstable marriage. Tendency to disassociate, and when detachment from reality cannot occur naturally, is brought upon by use of alcohol and drugs.

Person A through Z. Know you. Know you better, than I will ever know myself. I exist because you exist. It is all so obvious and fully exposed. I am strange, different, and grotesque.

Josefina the Dishwasher and I spent the day together, and I admired her ability to form part of the picture. She laughed freely, and had a beat that was in sync with our surroundings, while I hid like the monster that I am

March 8th, Year Three

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