Tuesday, Aug. 31, 2004 - 5:07 p.m.
Trenchcoat.

Today she really wanted to write the words that are crawling out her skin (mostly words that mean extinct). She�s not the encyclopaedia you know, she�s not even one good entry on something obscure. She�s not anything much to look at, she�s almost not visible at all. She�s not holding her breath really, she can hardly remember how to exhale.

You can tell her and cajole her, get bored and point out her talents, glaze over when she winces, but you both know there�s no point to this game anymore. She plans one day to look inside the pockets of those jeans she hardly wears, the words may just be waiting there, folded up in waxy paper.

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Hobbies. - Friday, Feb. 24, 2006
The doormat said Welcome to Stockholm. - Monday, Dec. 19, 2005
No. - Saturday, Nov. 12, 2005
Walking. - Sunday, Oct. 23, 2005
Missed. - Friday, Oct. 14, 2005


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Image: Cindy Sherman Untitled Film Still #66