Do you suppose that little girls keep diaries these days? Everything I've dreamed of has come my way and that's what I'm wondering about. Oh, I suppose that I think about death now and then. No more than I did thirty years ago but now we're on much closer terms.
It's hard to be honest unless you never change your mind and I change my mind more often than I do my hairdo. I've always maintained that I will tell anybody anything. I'm finding out that that's not altogether true.
Half the battle is staying awake and I'm usually about half-awake. Does that make me about a quarter alive or about three quarters dead? It's those pesky word problems that kept you out of the PhD program.
Pray for peace and search for truth.
I started out burningly shy and only survived by learning Funny. And ever since I too will tell anybody anything as long as I can make it amusing, regardless of the truth of the matter. But then, who ever said all recollections were only true if they weren't funny? I remember when I was in art college, I was telling someone about a friend who'd gotten her hair caught in a potter's wheel and scooted off to the nurse's office and greeted with the usual medical diagnosis: "Do you need some Darvon?" Someone wandered into the room and laughed like crazy about what I'd said. He later told my friend "I was there when that happened - but I didn't remember it being that funny!"
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