Thursday

Cannot sleep through the night. Today. My mother and the snow. Yesterday. The world fell over. Tomorrow. Who knows how and why.

Alexander McQueen. The world of horrifyingly uncomfortable shoes has lost their monarch. The gay world weeps. The straight world shrugs. To matter so much and not at all.

Worked today. No love. No love lost. Odd vomit/poo stain still where it was yesterday.

Cherry Coke Zero. You are our hero.

Lost the contest. I think.

“I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining” (Beckett 170).

kmc