Wednesday, November 19, 2008



I see the world now as if through the coin-operated telescope at some minor landmark -- a little bit distorted, and scratchy around the edges; I almost feel like it might snap shut to black any second.

I’ve gotten a little more control over the body they made me; it’s far from perfect, but I’ve learned its limitations; I can even pick flowers now without crushing them. Well, most of the time.

The loneliness is the worst, I think. After the news stories tapered off, people stopped visiting; even my old friends can’t bear to see me.

But I live.

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