Not much to say. very quiet very lonely but solitude is a lesson i am telling myself. reading my new book i like these parts so far but he had already starred and underlined them.

WHAT DO YOU WANT OF HIM, I ASK MYSELF. I TELL MYSELF, TO WALK INSIDE HIM AND NEVER LEAVE. FOR HIM TO BE THE HOUSE OF ME.

HERE I AM AM. THIRTEEN AT LAST. SOMEONE SHOULD KILL ME NOW,  I THINK,  AS I BLOW OUT THE CANDLES.

yesterday these were the only things i said: string bean, string bean, stop, can i get a scoop of mint chocolate chip on a cone yeah on a cone that's it thank you. string bean has started sleeping in the bed i made for him under my bed. i wake up and he's not at the foot of my bed or on the rug like he normally is and i run around looking for him calling his name but he's fast asleep in the bed i made for him under my bed. running more it's like suddenly you flip a switch and you can just keep running. like your body realizes you aren't kidding around. my eye is so infected do you think it is a symbol for something. i've been having revelations. and thinking about 2 things relating to nanette. the 1st is when we were at dinner with her and her boyfriend and her boyfriend who i think is probably 60 looked at me and said listen to me. in 40 years you are still going to be thinking about the things you are thinking about right now so don't let them go. the 2nd was we are in crit and she's telling a story about her mom's notebook from when she was young and she had written in pencil and the writing had disappeared over the years. and her mom asked her if she could bring the words back. and i had to try so hard not to cry in crit and so did she. Tomorrow the first standing breakfast. Envelope for Peggy arrives from meals-on-wheels: "I'm 94 years old and live alone..."